The Devil's Nine
by what-happened-2-nice
Summary: Unfortunately, hearing ghostly voices doesn't always mean there's a ghost, even in Amity Park. Post-PP. *COMPLETE*
1. A Beginning

**The Devil's Nine  
**by what-happened-2-nice

Chapter 1: A beginning

A/N: Blanket disclaimer for multi-chapter story, I own nothing. Brief note for this chapter: Post PP and secret's out. Bear with me. I know this particular chapter is OC heavy, but Danny and gang will be leading the action in future chapters. I just wanted to give you a chance to get attached to everyone I'm going to be killing off... um, I mean give you more characters to love. Mwah-ha-ha. The action in this chapter is the same as the narrative from my one shot "Name Calling" which is chapter 28 in my 'Minutiae' collection. You can think of that as kind of a bonus chapter since its action immediately follows the end of this chapter. I will not be re-publishing it here. The name of the story and the verses I'll be quoting are from a children's ballad "The Devil's Nine Questions." I'll be taking some liberties with the lyrics, but the gist of the song will stay the same.

Quick note to Call me Mad (AKA Ninja Fish) if you're reading this: You were the only one who voted, so your vote is the only one that counts. Poor, poor little Shanna.

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1

Barbie had seen better days, hair cut into a rough bob and thumb missing from her left hand, but she could still wrangle these horses and ponies with the best of them. Shanna carefully tightened a yarn lariat around the plush neck of a bright pink foal and secured the other end to Barbie's good right hand.

"Gi-yup," she whispered, conscious of her father sleeping upstairs. He worked even harder than Rancher Barbie, all day during the week and really late on Saturday nights at his second job. He needed his rest. Clippity-clop hoof beats muffled themselves against the carpet as the steeds raced to murmured commands.

"Shanna," called a rumbling voice almost outside of hearing.

She startled, and looked up guiltily. Had she been too loud? "Daddy?" Shanna crawled to the doorway. "Daddy? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up."

She was greeted with silence. Walking down the hall to the stairway she cautiously looked upwards. All of the upstairs lights were out. Was he just messing with her? He was always so tired when he came home from work, but… maybe he'd gotten up just a little early. Mom and Greg would be home from Greg's bible class soon. It was almost sunset now. She climbed the stairs. This joke would be a lot funnier if he was pulling it on Greg.

The door to her parents' room was slightly cracked to catch the breeze from the upstairs window. She crept closer, tippy-toe. Asleep or awake he wouldn't hear her. She leaned on the wall next to the doorframe, eyes shut tight and breath sealed full in her chest as she bit her lips. She wasn't scared. Listening, she heard him snoring softly. The used up air rushed out past her lips in a hastily stifled sigh. He was asleep, really asleep.

He always swore he didn't snore, didn't believe them when they all told him he did. So when he was faking he either lay there real quiet and still, or he 'snored' real loud like he was in some kind of cartoon. So who was calling her name just now? Shanna shrugged and moved as quietly as she could back downstairs, being careful to step on only the very edge of the creaky stair. Mom would be home soon and Greg would be loud enough to wake the dead, but Daddy could sleep until then. She wouldn't steal his last few minutes of rest by stomping around. She didn't want anything to hear her. No, she didn't want Daddy to hear her. She and Daddy were the only ones home right now.

She picked up a toy in each hand and crouched there, wondering. Maybe she was just using too much of her imagination and some of it spilled over. Like when you carry a cup that's too full while running. She'd just have to be more careful with those ornery horses down on the ranch. Maybe only wrangle one at a time. All but the wildest of her horses had been sent back to their stalls for the night when she felt it. She was being watched. Shanna looked up warily, turning her head left and right to look around the room. Her neck was so stiff she almost couldn't move her head. It was like her body didn't want her to look, because then it might see something.

Come to think of it, Barbies and horsies were toys for little girls. It would be much better for her to do something grown up. Something like riding her bike up and down the driveway till Mom got home. Shanna didn't hesitate to abandon the toys to their fate as she rushed out of the room. Down the hall, past the stairs, and out the door in back, she didn't even slow to close it behind her. The low hiss of the pneumatic closer mounted at the top of the screen was all that marked her passage.

2

Shanna knew she shouldn't be up right now. It was really, really late and Mommy was gone to work and Daddy had already tucked them into bed with kisses and goodnights. She really should have stayed there, but just after dinner she'd seen the news teaser. It had promised her brand new Danny Phantom ghost fight footage during the 11 o'clock news. Danny Phantom! They didn't have a DVR or even a VCR to record the show, so if she didn't watch it herself she might never see it. Shanna couldn't even imagine how awful that would be, so she tossed and turned until just before eleven. She watched the clock tick, tick, tick. And she snuck downstairs to the living room to turn on the TV, sound really low.

It would just be just a couple minutes, just to see the fight. Just until she saw her hero save the day again. But those stupid news people kept promising, "up next", right after this story about an old guy you've never heard of, "just next", after a war somewhere far away, "up next", after we show this policeman get a medal. Well, that one wasn't so bad. She kind of wanted to be in the police when she grew up. Sometime after she invented a way for the car to run on water and sunlight, but before she had kids of her own. But as cool as the cop was, he wasn't Danny Phantom. He couldn't fly or shoot lasers out of his hands. It was closing in on midnight before the promised show began. Shanna was so excited as she watched, that she didn't really register the first whisper that slithered in from the hallway.

"Shanna."

"So cool," she squeaked, nose inches from the screen. The ghost looked mean. It also looked like it could hit really hard. She winced as her hero tumbled through the sky. She bit her knuckles as hard as she dared to keep her cheers and groans inside. She knew Phantom would win, because he was the good guy and because he always won. And also because the news people would have tried to sound more serious and sad than excited when they talked about the fight. Shanna was right there with him as he pounded the ghost into submission and sucked it into his thermos thingie.

She couldn't wait to talk about this with the Phan club at school tomorrow. She clicked the TV off and bounced a little in excitement as she sat cross-legged on the carpet, replaying the fight in her head punch by punch. She had to remember everything just right so she could tell the others properly.

"Shanna." She jumped up and looked through the doorway. There was… no, there wasn't anything there.

"Daddy?" but she knew it wasn't him. Daddy had gone to bed right after he tucked them in, because he had to be up before dawn to go to work. "I'm the only one awake right now. I'm brave like Phantom. And I'm good and I'm going to bed now."

She ran upstairs. She closed her door tight. And she flipped on all the lights. Only babies like Greg needed nightlights. It wasn't the same thing if she happened to fall asleep with the regular lights on. And since no one was there calling her name, that meant it wasn't real. Shanna didn't have to tell anyone about things that weren't real. All she had to do was remember the fight she saw on TV. Because that _was_ real, and was on the actual news. Everyone would want to hear about that.

3

"You have to count to fifty. And no peeking!"

"All the way to fifty? Where are you planning to hide? China?" Shanna laughed at Greg.

"No, not China. That's stupid. I've got a really good hiding place that you'll never find. And you can't trick me into telling you where it is. Now close your eyes and count slow." He frowned at her until she obeyed, then ran off into the partially finished basement. "No Peeking!"

She snorted where she rested her head against crossed arms. "Like I need to. You always hide in the same place." She knew her mutter went unheard just like she knew he had bee-lined it straight to the cupboard where their winter clothes were stored. Once Shanna had 'one-thousand'ed her way to fifty, she confidently moved into the laundry area. Greg always hid there because he knew she was afraid of the room. He only halfway believed her when she told him about the monster that watched her when she was in here. She threw open the door with a dramatic "Ah-hah!" but he didn't come out right away.

"I know you're here, Greg, the clothes are moving." She moved them, expecting to see him pouting. Nothing. She shoved all the clothes one way then the other along the hanging rail and looked underneath, but didn't find him. She did hear the laughter, though. That didn't sound like him. "Greg?"

"Giving up already?" his voice echoed from the room further down the hall.

"Yeah, come out now."

"Say it first." He demanded.

She sighed, but began to chant. "Gregory is great, Gregory is king, Shanna has lost, She can't find a thing." Scratchy and fading in and out, a whole bunch of ladies voices gabbled at each other. They laughed and mumbled like some radio comedy show, but Shanna knew the radio was up in the kitchen.

She was staring at the old woodstove by the pantry when Greg came out of hiding. She asked him, "Do you hear that?"

"Hear what? Hear you sucking at hide-and-seek?" He smiled a nasty little brother smile.

"Nevermind. And don't talk like that. You know Mom doesn't like it." Shanna wrapped her arms around herself and edged towards the stairs. She never took her eyes off the darkness behind the stove.

"Mom's not here to hear me." He sassed.

"She'll know anyway. She always does. You'll see. Let's go upstairs and play. Now that I know your newest hiding place, the basement won't work anymore."

He looked thoughtful, then nodded. This was the first time she hadn't found him. He wanted to hang on to the victory. "Okay. Race you to the back yard?"

She didn't need a second invitation.

4

It was getting worse. Shanna dreamed of fire almost every night now. The house was going to burn down, a spark of electricity, a tiny ember, a strike of lightning, or a serpentine trail of fire from an almost invisible hole in midair. She couldn't help Mommy with dinner anymore because the fire of the burners terrified her. She refused to leave the house when they all went to her Aunt Jerri's for a bar-b-q. She was missing TV and the news stories of Phantom, but she couldn't bear the thought of seeing that image flickering on screen, either in a commercial or on the news. And she was missing too much sleep, spending restless nights reading her stories by flashlight beneath the covers because she was too afraid to sleep.

Just last night she'd heard something. She'd heard something horrible down at the foot of her bed. She'd woken up that night, terrified without reason. Shanna was certain that she could hear paper rustling at the foot of her bed. She had looked down the endless distance towards the shadows at her feet. There was nothing there. She tried to go back to sleep, putting her head down, only to hear a match strike and fire crackling. She pulled her feet up, knees tight to chest, scared stiff. She felt the flames reach up for her, though she couldn't feel any heat. She gathered her strength to look again, and again there was nothing there. Eventually, Shanna was so exhausted from the nights of lost sleep that she slipped away into slumber's darkness. She didn't remember the sound stopping.

Tonight wasn't any better. She woke from her nightmare, pinned flat to the bed. She couldn't move and the house was going to burn down with her in it. It was going to burn down, and she couldn't move, and she couldn't breathe, and mommy and daddy and Greg were all going to die, because she couldn't… Shanna was abruptly released, shooting upright in bed with a breathless scream. It turned to shamed sobs as she felt a spreading warmth dampen the bed beneath her. Stupid little baby, that's all they'd think. She whimpered when her parents came in to check on her.

"Oh, honey, again?" Her mother asked, coming to her side. Shanna could only cry, face hidden in her hands and shaking.

"F- f-from the b-basement," she sobbed.

Her father ran a hand though his hair where he stood sleepily in her doorway. "It'll be okay, Shanna. You let your momma clean you up an' you can come sleep with us tonight. I'll use the time to give the house a check over. Come mornin' I'll go ahead an' pull out that chimney. We don' use that old woodstove down there anyway." He paused before turning to leave to say again, "It'll be okay."

Now if he could only believe that himself.

He could hear Sherry singing a simple, repetitive folk song to Shanna as he ghosted though the house, room by room. He knew this one, an ancient song about beating the Devil and his riddles. Sherry never sang the first verse to the kids, because she felt it was just too frightening for young children. He hummed it softly to himself as he inspected his home for any possible source of flame.

If you don't answer my questions nine  
(Sing ninety-nine and ninety)  
I'll take you off to Hell alive  
O, who is the weaver's bonny?

Come to think of it, he reflected, it might just be a little too frightening for him. He finished his mission down in the basement, staring resignedly at the stove and the job ahead of him once the sun rose. So much for his day off.

He returned to his room and looked at his wife. Shanna nestled into her side, finally, finally asleep. "What are we goin' to do about this, hon?"

They were all so tired.

Sherry sat thoughtfully, then looked up at him, "We've heard her stories. Voices talkin' ta her. We've seen the nightmares. I…" She hesitated. "Glenn, honey, I've never felt comfortable in the basement myself. My sister feels the same. If this is real…"

He could only look at her solemnly.

"If this is real, maybe we ought ta call the Reverend ta say a blessin'. On the house and for Shanna."

He nodded decisively, any glimmer of hope was welcome nowadays. "Call him in the mornin'. This can't go on much longer."

She snuggled down and ran her fingers gently through her daughter's hair. "Shanna wants ta write a letter ta that Phantom boy. He does live just up the way."

Glenn climbed under the sheets and let his head fall into the pillow. "We need to try some others first. Don't let her get her hopes up. I know he's her hero, but… He saved the world. He'll prob'ly be too busy for us."

5

Shanna could hear the voices whispering loudly. She tried to remind herself that it was only the sound of heat moving through the vents, or her parents talking to each other in their room. But then the voices, all those faded, scratchy voices came together into one. They (it?) sounded like many a choir's many voices talking in tight unison during service. All those voices layered atop each other to become a single sound. But this one was dark. It was cold. She didn't want to hear it.

"Shanna. Do it now. Hit him. Go hit him. Go now."

She could see it in her head. She would walk across the hall to his door. She would go inside, stepping over toys and clothes to stand over his bed. Her fist would raise high over her head, knuckles white. It would plunge down, square into his face, over and over and…

She didn't want to do it. She loved Greg. She'd never tell him, but he was her best friend. He was her best and most loyal playmate. Shanna felt the need to be protective of him. Ever since he'd come home from the hospital in her mother's arms. She loved him when he was the weird little thing wrapped in blankets that mewled and smelled of milk and powder. She loved him when he helped her push a chair so she could swipe them some cookies from on top of the fridge just this past week. The last thing in the world Shanna wanted to do was hit her brother, but these voices kept urging her to do it.

Finally she couldn't take it anymore. She was so angry! Shanna stormed out of her room. She didn't look over to the stairs, but she knew that man's voice was down there in the first floor hallway. It would be laughing at her, mean and horrible. She frowned. She walked across the hall to his door. Its stickers and crudely drawn pictures told the world that this was Greg's Room, Stay Out. She went inside, stepping carefully over fire trucks and stacking blocks and dirty clothes to stand over his bed. Shanna leaned over his bed, hearing the voices telling her, "Yes, yes!" And she leaned down, tucked him in, and kissed his forehead while he slept peacefully.

The voices stopped and didn't start again that night. Sherry found her daughter curled up asleep on the floor in front of Greg's door when she came home after the late shift.

6

Shanna ran back up the stairs from the basement pantry as fast as she could. So cold, her teeth were chattering. Her whole body hurt and she shook, handing her mom the vegetables for that night's dinner. Sandpaper hate grating on her skin, she knew she never, ever wanted to go down there again. She looked up at her mother with sick eyes. "It hates so much. It wants to kill me, all of us."

Sherry knelt to wrap her arms tightly around her girl. She looked over to Glenn where he was talking on the phone. Making eye contact, he said something into the handset, and then listened to the reply. He turned to them, calling out to his daughter. "Shanna, darlin'? You got any tests or anythin' at school tomorrow?"

She shook her head and he returned to his conversation. Glenn nodded, said goodbye and hung up the phone. "It'll be okay, baby girl." He was almost sure he meant it this time. "That was him. You an' me are takin' tomorrow off. He'll be comin' by to see to us in the afternoon. If you ask politely, he might even sign you an autograph or somethin'."

For the first time in weeks, Shanna smiled.

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A/N2: I can't believe I led in with a Barbie. *shakes head* Three guesses who that was on the phone, and the first two don't count. Danny will be making his first actual appearance next chapter.


	2. A Beautiful Day

**The Devil's Nine  
**by what-happened-2-nice

Chapter 2: A Beautiful Day

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What is whiter than the milk?  
(Sing ninety-nine and ninety)  
What is softer than the silk?  
Say you are the weaver's bonny.

* * *

_-She dreamed of a muddy river, swollen in flood. It was going to wash away everything she cared for.-_

Danny woke sometime in the early morning hours. His eyes opened slowly, independently of each other as he fought gravity and lingering sleep. The light filtering in through the windows gave the room a warm, diffuse glow. He lay there for a moment, empty of thought or impetus. Something about today… warm, relaxed, rested. Quiet, it was too quiet. Danny blinked in drowsy confusion, what…? A distant explosion from the direction of the lab finally brought him fully awake. Oh, that was all that had been missing. He went into full body stretch beneath the covers, eyes twitching shut with each pop and crackle. When he was done he flopped there bonelessly. How strange. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a lazy, sleepy morning like this. Determined to enjoy things to the fullest, he moved at no more than quarter speed through his morning routine.

_-She woke with a feeling of dread. Something bad was coming.-_

Danny phased the water off his body for an instant dry, reminding himself to add shampoo to the grocery list in the kitchen. A halfhearted attempt to tame his flyaway hair was quickly abandoned. What the heck, he didn't have any plans for today. If anyone objected to his appearance, that would be their problem. He dressed and stumbled down the stairs. It felt like an oatmeal kind of morning. He poked through the cupboards while the water and oats boiled on the stovetop. Raisins? Walnuts? Ooo, maple syrup. He retreated to the table with his glorious find and started in on an apple while he waited for the rest of his breakfast to finish cooking.

_-She had no appetite. A quick consultation of her books told her what she needed. She cursed under her breath. She could only hope that no one noticed her when she filled the glass. This was not her usual morning beverage. At least she didn't have to drink it.-_

A quick glance at the clock over the stove when he put his bowl to soak in the sink showed it was much earlier than he'd thought. What to do? He looked over towards the basement door. A handwritten sign in garish red ink proclaimed 'For your own safety: Do Not Enter. Especially Danny.' He briefly considered being offended, but shrugged it off. They probably had a good reason. He cracked the door a sliver and called down the stairs. "Mom? Dad?"

"Don't come down here, sweetie!" Maddie called back up to him.

The sound of another small explosion rose to his ears. Jack's voice rumbled upwards next. "Dang it! Umm, she's right, Danny boy. I thought this was just about… well, we don't have all the kinks worked out yet, so it really isn't safe for you down here just yet. Don't come down until we say it's okay, okay?"

"Never been so glad they found out my secret." Danny muttered to himself before shouting down to them again. "Do I want to know what you're doing?"

Jack started to answer, but his voice was quickly muffled by something. Maddie's voice was the one that answered. "It's a surprise, Danny! It is taking a little longer than we planned, but it should be ready for you to take for a test run tomorrow. In the meantime, just stay upstairs. If you need to put someone or something back in the Ghost Zone, just give us a shout. We'll take care of it."

"Okay," he nodded to himself, starting to close the door.

"Oh! Danny, wait!"

Danny stuck his head back through the doorway. "What?"

"Are you going out later today?" Maddie's tone was hopeful.

"Probably."

"Can you pick up some groceries for dinner? The list is on the fridge. You can find some cash in my purse when you go."

Danny grumbled a bit, but replied, "Okay, no problem. Is there anything you wanted that isn't on the list?"

The sound of a spilled tool chest rang up the stairs with a great rattling bang. "Not unless you think of something. Thanks, sweetie. We'll see you tonight!"

Danny shambled over to the fridge and looked at the short list. "Well, that's not so bad. Just a few… Oh! Shampoo." He scribbled on the extra item and shoved the list into his pocket. Scratching his head absently, he moved into the living room. Danny stood for a minute in the middle of the room before dropping onto the couch to flip through channels on the TV for a while. There was homework to be done, but it could wait. Danny wasn't prepared to put in any more effort than necessary, even if he was catching more slack at school since his secret came out. It wasn't like he was Jazz or something. Cartoons.

_-She added the prescribed herbs to the milk. She set and lit the candles. She anchored each corner of the blue square of silk securely, smoothing the soft material flat on the floor. She stood, glass in hand and let the mixture drizzle down onto the cloth. She knelt at the edge of the cloth. And she turned once more to her books to interpret the signs this gave her.-_

Danny rolled his head side to side to shake off the drowsiness. He yawned widely. TV wasn't cutting it. He'd have to do something more active. He looked at the clock again. He didn't want to go shopping yet. He had all the time in the world before dinner. He still didn't want to do his schoolwork. Too early to bother Tucker, who wouldn't be up before eleven on a weekend if he could help it. That left Sam. Danny smiled.

_-She pushed hard, consulting the books and the patterns of the herbs and milky remains before her. A headache blossomed behind her eyes. 'Tell me, please. What is it that's coming? What do I need to do to prepare?' The signs stayed stubbornly ambiguous. A girl. Darkness and Fire. A fray. Another fray? (Two?) Danger. It wasn't enough, not nearly enough to tell her how to proceed. She had to know, so she pushed with all her might. An almost exasperated knowledge broke across her darkening mind as the strain pushed back on her and drove her into unconsciousness. There was nothing more to be found. The threat was too indistinct. A voice (her own?) whispered to her as she felt her body topple to the side. 'Trust your instincts.'-_

Danny threw open the front door, intending to rush over to Sam's right away. The sight that greeted him stopped him in his tracks. Sometime overnight they'd had a silent snowfall. The first of the season. Every surface bore a heavy blanket of sparkling white powder. It shone so brightly he had to squint a bit against the glare. Danny stood in the open doorway, admiring the beauty before him until he heard the heater kick on in the house behind him. Oops. He ducked back inside long enough to grab some winter wear and to lace on some boots in favor of his usual canvas shoes. He finally knew exactly what he wanted to do this morning.

He trudged cheerfully through several inches of undisturbed snow between his home and Sam's, admiring the almost fairy-tale scenery on the way. Stopping briefly in a shop along the way, he picked up a small bouquet and a smaller chemical heat pack for his pocket. Both would come in handy later. Sam would stay out longer with him if she had feeling in her fingers. When he finally arrived at Sam's door, he knocked, bouncing on his toes. An unusual side effect of his ice powers manifested itself an affinity for water in all forms, especially the frozen kind. Where anyone else might find a shivery kind of enjoyment, he filled up to the brim with an almost electric anticipation. Today would be so amazing. He could feel it. It swirled in his core with a sense of home.

When Grandma Ida opened the door Danny presented the flowers with a showman's flourish, smiling widely. She rolled her eyes at him, but accepted his tribute and rolled her Rascal back to allow him to enter. "Sam's upstairs, Danny. She'll be happy to see you. When she came downstairs this morning she didn't look like she slept at all well. Why don't you drag her out of the house and run her legs off today? Nothing like exhaustion to ensure a good night's sleep."

Danny bobbed his head at her, grinning. "That's the plan. I'm thinking snow fight in the park followed by aimless wandering all over town until Tucker wakes up. Then we can start all over again!"

She laughed, powering the scooter back into the house as he climbed the stairs, "I'm counting on that, young man! You two have fun today."

He knocked softly when he got to her door, calling her name, "Sam?" Danny tried the knob. A twist to the right yielded nothing, but a twist to the left issued a small click and the door swung open. Was the lock broken? "Sam? You still in here?"

He pushed the door open the rest of the way, and saw her there on the floor. She lay curled up on her side next to the square of silk, the scattered candles of the room sending up slender plumes of smoke where they'd guttered out.

He rushed to her side, shaking her shoulder gently. "Sam! Hey. Are you okay?"

Sam woke groggily, blinking up at him. "Hey." She lifted a hand to rub her forehead as she sat up. She glanced down at the book of runes under her other hand, searching for a quick excuse. "Sorry, I guess I wasn't as awake as I thought. I must have fallen asleep reading."

Danny reached past her to straighten the empty glass. He brought it up, giving it a tentative sniff. "You knocked over your drink. What is this? Soy milk or something? Smells sweet."

Sam pulled it away from his face, taking it back and setting it down next to her again. "Don't. It's umm… probably spoiled by now. What are you doing here?"

He frowned playfully at her. "I'm hurt, Sam. You sound like you aren't happy to see me. For your information I am here to kidnap you and make you come play in the snow with me today."

Her lips twisted in a reluctant grin. "Is it kidnapping if you tell me you're going to do it?"

Danny shrugged, rising to stand over her. "I don't know. But I do know I'm under orders. Your grandma says I'm supposed to wear you out so you can sleep tonight. So come on. It snowed! We've got to go to the park and waste the whole day freezing off various body parts." He pulled her to her feet. "Have you had breakfast yet? You're gonna need it."

Sam shook her head. "I wasn't very hungry earlier, but that's probably a good idea. Why don't you go down and ask the cook to make me some toast while I clean up and find my coat? I won't be long."

He made a face at her. "Eew, toast? So gross. You should have oatmeal. That's what I had. It's an oatmeal day."

"Oatmeal day, huh? Fine, go get me some oatmeal. I'll meet you in the kitchen." Sam shooed him out the door. _A girl. Darkness and Fire. A fray. A fray. Danger._

After he left, she gathered the edges of the silk square. The dregs of the scrying liquid in the glass had spilled along the bottom edge, trailing an almost perfect line across its length. While the rest of the drizzles had beaded up on the material, greenish white from the herbal mixture, that one line shone inky black. It almost seemed to have burned its way across the surface of the silk. She crumpled the cloth in both fists and set it to soak in her bathroom sink with a bit of mild detergent. No sense letting it stain. Checking the hall to be sure no one would observe, she lifted the edge of her bed skirt to reveal not just the expected bed's box spring, but an actual box. She pressed a hidden catch and let the side panel fall into her waiting hands. She replaced the book, shutting and locking the hidden library again.

Sending an ancient Hebrew prayer heavenward, she knelt beside the restored bedding, head pressed wearily into the mattress. What had started with a handful of books from the Skulk and Lurk and from a couple of reliable Goth contacts had been expanded greatly when she'd bought out the estate of a certain gentleman from Chester, England. The books and artifacts in his collection had led her to even more sources for the occult. She collected more information, more knowledge, more tools for her particular brand of ghost fighting. She'd need additional storage soon. But it was worth it. She rolled her eyes at the cliché, 'forewarned is forearmed' but overuse didn't make the words any less true. And she'd do anything in her power to keep Danny safe. Speaking of which…

Sam re-dressed warmly, grabbed her warmest waterproof jacket and hurried down to the kitchen. There she found Danny faithfully guarding her breakfast while munching on a bowl of his own oatmeal. She lifted an eyebrow at him. "I thought you ate already. Why are you having oatmeal here, too?"

Danny smiled tightly past a mouthful of food. "Second breakfast," he mumbled unrepentantly, eyes twinkling. He hurried her through her own breakfast before dragging her through the front door and into the beginnings of winter.

Sam kept up with her side of the conversation on the way to the park, but remained distracted, thinking of the portents she'd seen. She had almost nothing, but it couldn't hurt to ask. "Danny? What ever happened with that girl?"

He looked over at her curiously, "What girl?"

Sam gritted her teeth. If she knew she wouldn't have to ask. "I don't remember her name. There was something to do with… fire?" _Fire and Darkness._

He thought for a moment before it came to him. "Oh, you mean Shanna Mills? The little girl who was hearing ghostly voices and having nightmares about their house burning down?"

She nodded. This sounded right, "I think so. How is she doing?"

He shrugged, "Like I told you after I checked things out, there wasn't really anything ghostly going on that I could find. So we took advantage of that deal Jazz set up with her Harvard professors. Shanna and her mom are out in Boston getting everything checked over, while her dad and brother are holding down the fort here. Full medical and mental. Jazz called a while back to say that the voices are probably in her head, since there's nothing wrong with the hearing areas of her brain. Poor kid. It's okay though. The best psychologists in the US all come out of Harvard, so they should be able to teach her how to deal with it. Apparently you're not considered crazy unless you _listen_ to the voices in your head."

"Wow. That's so sad… poor girl." Sam shivered. She hated herself for thinking it, but she couldn't help but hope that the voices _were _just in that unfortunate little girl's mind.

Danny looked a little sad, but shook it off easily enough. Shanna was being given the best help available. "Yeah. I think they're coming back sometime this week. Why'd you ask?"

"I don't know." Sam reflected that she wasn't even being evasive with her answer. "I just couldn't get the thought out of my head." _A fray. A fray. Darkness. Confusion._

They turned the final corner on the way to the park. It was a straight shot to the gates from here and they could see the entrance ahead of them. At the end of the street a large flock of ravens took to the air. They flew in a wide circle over the snowy trees, cawing raucously. Sam glared at them. Another ambiguous sign, _'Choose a direction, you idiot birds'._ As she and Danny passed the gates, the circle broke and the birds all flew en masse overhead in the direction the two had come from. _A good sign._ All except the single raven that fluttered awkwardly to the snow just ahead and to their left. It floundered a bit in the loose powder, before falling still. _Tainted by a bad sign. Still ambiguous._

"Oh no." Danny waded over to the bird, prodding it a bit before picking it up. "Aw. It's dead."

Sam shivered and wrapped her arms tightly around herself. Danny spoke up quickly, misinterpreting her distress. "It looks pretty old. Poor thing is missing half its feathers and its beak is all chipped up. I don't think it would have survived the winter anyway."

She nodded, agreeing "It's probably for the best. Winter is hard on the old. This way it doesn't have to suffer, it was just his time. We should probably bury him or something."

Danny looked around. "I'll take care of it. That tree over there, you think? It looks like a bird friendly kind of place." He pointed out a spreading oak just off the path with his chin. Moving to the trunk, he went intangible, sinking into the ground. When he reappeared his hands were empty.

Sam stood on the path waiting for Danny to join her again. The whole park shimmered under a perfect layer of frost and fluffy white snow. Wooly, unhelpful signs aside, today really was a beautiful day. She closed her eyes. The perfect sun shone through her closed lids. Not too cold, not too warm, the weather created a perfect lazy Saturday. They could have been alone in the world, with the snow muffling all the normal morning sounds of the city. They were certainly alone in the park. She opened her eyes again when Danny took her hand. She didn't have clear directions, so what were her instincts telling her to do?

"You okay, Sam?" She looked up into his concerned eyes. He was everything to her. The voice returned. Her own? _'Tell him.'_

She smiled up at him, using his hold on her hand to tug him into a close hug. "I love you so much, you know that?"

Danny's smile rivaled the sun for brightness. "I love you too, Sam." He pulled her closer and kissed her softly, warming her chilled lips with his own.

Sam buried a smile against his neck. He was right. The first snowfall of the season and she was wasting it in worries and brooding. An answer would come when the time was right. Until then… She ran her hands up the back of his neck and pulled his head down for a more lingering kiss.

She murmured against him as they pulled apart. "Danny?"

"Hmm?" He lifted his head to look at her questioningly.

"You're it." And with that Sam shoved him just hard enough to topple him into the snow bank beside the path. She ran off as quickly as she could in the clinging snow with a shout of "No powers!" over her shoulder. He gave chase as soon as he regained his feet, gathering a ball of loose snow in his hands. She was in for it now.

_'It's a beautiful day. Enjoy it while it lasts.'_

* * *

Snow is whiter than the milk.  
(Sing ninety-nine and ninety)  
Love is softer than the silk.  
And I am the weaver's bonny.

* * *

A/N: The symbolism in this chapter is very heavy handed. I plan on being a little more subtle in coming chapters. Also, I don't necessarily see Sam as a witch (Wiccan) or anything. I see her as a somewhat ruthless, and very practical person. Someone who is confident enough to stay true to the beliefs she was raised in and still be willing/able to use any tools at her disposal to get the job done. In this case, she's collecting books and items of the occult to further protect Danny. Since it's post-PP, they're together, and she's not about to let anything ruin that. Look for her to be strong in this fic. I need to make up for neglecting her character a bit in my one-shots. :-)

-S&S, wh2n


	3. A Fray

**The Devil's Nine  
**by what-happened-2-nice

Chapter 3: A Fray

* * *

What is louder than a horn?  
(Sing ninety-nine and ninety)  
What is sharper than a thorn?  
Sing I am the weaver's bonny.

* * *

Tucker and Danny exited the front doors of Casper High, riding a wave of fellow students as it crashed out onto the sidewalk. They worked their way over to the left side of the stairs to wait for Sam, kicking away some snow to lean against the ornate light pole there. A roaring wind trumpeted in the distance, rolling down the hillsides outside of town. The boys both pulled their coats tighter.

Danny squinted his eyes against the bright sunlight, "What pages were we supposed to read tonight for English?"

Tucker pulled out his ever-present PDA. "Umm. The final three chapters. We're also supposed to do the exercises after chapter seventeen and fill out the worksheet Lancer gave us at the beginning of class." He shook his head in dismay.

"You're kidding me. On top of everything else we got today? This is supposed to be a half-day!" Danny started digging through his bag to be sure he had all the materials he'd need.

"Nope. Looks like our long weekend is going to be a _long_ weekend. Do you need a copy of the handout?" Tucker asked.

A thorough rummaging showed Danny hadn't been as prepared as he'd hoped. "Yeah. I didn't even see any when I came in. I was only a couple of minutes late!" He groused.

Tucker nodded, making a note on his electronic calendar. "I'll go ahead and scan you a copy when I get to the office."

Danny patted him on the back with a playful smile on his face. "Way to abuse city resources, Tuck."

Tucker laughed, slipping the PDA back into his hip holster. "Hey! Everybody else might be getting a half day for teacher conferences, but I have to go sit in a meeting for the board of commissioners and then talk to some small business types. I think City Hall can afford five cents to make and send a copy for our resident hero."

Danny swung his backpack back and forth by its straps as they waited. "Do I hear griping? You're the one who wanted to be mayor."

Tucker made a face, waggling his hands in a 'down-down' motion. "Yeah, whatever. It's just more work than I thought, even with my Deputy doing most of the heavy lifting. I…" The PDA buzzed with frenetic energy. "… hold on, I've got a high priority message coming in. Lemme just…"

Tucker pulled up the message on his trusty handheld and read it with increasing confusion.

'Hey, Tuck. Sam here. Don't say anything. I need you to use your super-duper web crawlers to track down info on some very vague leads I've gotten. Paranormal, not necessarily ghost. Maybe some human involvement. DON'T TELL DANNY. I don't have anything solid yet, and don't want to worry him. Forward any results to my e-mail a.s.a.p. this afternoon. Use the following search terms and anything that YOU can make from them.' There followed a series of terms and phrases that only made Tucker feel even more confused. Paranormal, but not ghostly? He thought Amity Park _only_ got paranormal that was _exclusively_ ghostly. And why couldn't he tell Danny? Well, never mind that. Danny _did_ tend to over-worry about things that weren't necessarily his responsibility. Let his friends carry what burdens they could.

Tucker scrolled down to the end of the note. How had she even gotten the code for his emergency messaging service? 'Also, I'm right behind you. Don't look up.' He immediately looked up.

Danny started to ask what the message had been about when thin, black-clad arms slipped around his waist from behind. "Boo."

A tremendous smile graced Danny's face as he twisted to look back over his shoulder. "Hey, Sam. What took you?"

Instead of moving around in front of him, she nestled into his back. "I had to send some e-mails. By the way… I'm cooooooold!" And she held him as close as she could. Danny wrapped his arms over hers, returning the embrace as well as he could given their positions.

Tucker laughed at them. "You know. I thought that you finally getting together meant I'd have to come up with new material for my teasing, but I think the classics still work. Don't they, Lovebirds?"

Danny and Sam both spoke simultaneously, though Sam's voice was muffled by the back of Danny's jacket. "Shut up, Tuck."

"That's Mayor Tuck to you. Oh, and here's my ride." They all looked streetward to see a late model Towncar pulling up to the curb. "I'm off to City Hall to toil away for the benefit of my fellow citizens."

He was busy typing into his PDA as he moved towards the car. Just FTP the search parameters Sam sent him into his home network, get it going, set up junk filters and an automatic bounce back to her private account… and done. He made eye contact with Sam where she'd just barely peeked around Danny's shoulder, nose still firmly buried in the warm cloth. Tucker nodded very deliberately to show he'd done as she asked, then spoke to Danny again.

"So… I'll be tied up the rest of the afternoon. I'll probably be able to e-mail you the worksheet in the next half hour, and I've got our tutor set up for 5:30 tonight. You meeting me there?" Tucker dropped the PDA into its holster again, looking back at Danny.

"Yeah, I think I'm gonna need the help with all the work they piled on us this weekend. Are we still meeting for a late dinner after that at your place?"

Tucker paused in the open door of the car, "You'd better. Mom said she'd be cooking all day. Nobody in their right mind misses out on a Mama Foley feast. She's even making some bunny-food for Sam."

The eyes watching from just behind Danny's arm narrowed dangerously.

Tucker gulped nervously, but continued, "Danny, before I forget. I managed to set up a regular press conference every other Monday for you that we can combine with the regular State of Amity Park report I make. That and the anti-paparazzi legislation that passed last month should keep most of the news ghouls off us. Don't make any other plans for Monday between four and five pm. Oh and one more thing…" Tucker struck a heroic pose in the door of the car, one arm thrust upwards and eyes turned heavenward. He began to extol in a loud, deep voice, "I want to make it known to all my constituents that I still hold the campaign issues of my student body president days close to my heart. As Mayor I intend to push forward on a ballot to institute mandatory MINI-SKIRT-FRIDAYS! Who's your favorite Mayor?"

He managed one triumphant fist pump to the cheers of many nearby male students before he had to laughingly duck into the car to avoid a flurry of snowballs from the ladies. Danny had his hands full trying to hold back Sam from a full-out charge after their retreating friend. When the car had pulled safely away, he tugged at her jacket a little to straighten it. "So, we've got all afternoon to ourselves and I don't intend to even look at what's in my backpack until my tutoring session. Wanna go get some ice-cream at Elmer's pharmacy?"

Sam shivered violently at the mere suggestion and attempted to grit her teeth at him. They only chattered. She jabbed him in the chest with a gloved finger. "You're nuts, you know that? How about we go to the café near the Skulk and Lurk and get some hot cocoa? Then you can go do your tutoring thing with Tucker."

"You're not gonna come with?" he asked with puppy dog eyes at the ready.

Sam rolled her own eyes with an affectionate smirk. "Stop that. I, unlike some other people I could name, am all caught up on my homework. I did about half of what we got today during the breaks and in study-hall so I could have some free time later while you were busy."

He made his face a question mark, and she had to shove him into motion towards the café to keep from laughing at him. "I'm just expecting a reply on the e-mails I mentioned. I want to get that all out of the way so we can enjoy the weekend together, worry free."

"What would you be worrying about?" Danny's eyes were on the icy sidewalk at his feet, so he didn't see the grim look that crossed her face.

"It's just an expression, Danny." He captured her hand in a gentle clasp and they walked quietly for a while, ignoring the curious looks of passersby.

When he began to chafe under the weight of their silence, he threw her a look out of the corner of his eye. A glimmer of gold caught his attention from the neckline of her fluffy jacket hood. "What's that?"

"What?" Sam blinked at him, emerging from her disquieted thoughts.

"This." He pulled a small pendant out into the air from where it hung from her usual black choker. Swirls of gold surrounded a long, unpretentious white stone. A small freshwater pearl, iridescent in blue and purple, hung from the bottom.

"Oh. It's just a fulgurite necklace I bought." She laughed at his completely baffled expression. "It's a kind of natural glass. Listen." Sam pulled off a glove to tap gently at the center stone. It emitted a delicate ringing, reminiscent of far off wind chimes. "It's supposed to be good luck."

Danny made a face halfway between a smile and a frown. "It's pretty… and spiky. Very Goth." The smile flickered out under the weight of the frown. "You've been buying a lot of that kind of thing lately, good luck charms, spooky books. What's up?"

She drew in a deep breath though her nose. "Well, I've always been interested in this type of thing." Sam couldn't tell him everything, but she could tell him enough of the truth to put him at ease until she had something more solid to give him. "It's come in handy before, with the ghost fighting. The recent buying spree, though… that's at least _partly_ due to my parents. They're putting pressure on me to start learning to handle the family fortune. That means making investments. I'm investing mostly where my interests lie: rare artifacts and tomes, green companies, sustainable technologies. And in many of the same stocks that… you know what, never mind. I just figured if I was going to have to do this, I'd do it my way." Sam stuck her chin defiantly in the air. Every word was the truth… just not all of the truth.

Danny smiled. "I'll bet. And you're probably going to make more money at it than both your parents put together."

She scrunched her nose. "You know money doesn't matter to me."

"I know, but it does matter to your parents. Moving your causes forward _AND_ making bank? Tell me that doesn't make you all giggly smug." He maneuvered closer, looming over her conspiratorially.

Sam stepped back in pretend indignation, "I do not giggle."

"No? I'm sure I've heard you giggle. Maybe if I did this…" Danny waggled his fingers lightly up her sides, making her twist away with stifled laughter. When she ran for the café, he pursued.

* * *

Interlude

Shanna burst in the front door of their house. "Home! Home, home, homehomehome! We're finally home!"

It seemed like they'd been gone forever. Now that the doctors had told her everything would be okay and that she wasn't sick it felt like nothing could touch her. Even gravity! She bounced crazily from wall to wall with all the grace of a squirrel on a sugar high. She raced into each room, touching the familiar surfaces and furnishings as if to reassure herself of their reality.

Sherry and Greg followed on her heels, laughing at her antics. Her mother hauled in their bags as she scolded gently, "Calm down, sweetheart. The house ain't goin' anywhere. Greg, help me take this load on upstairs? Then you've got your homework before dinner. Speakin' of which… Shanna? Can you go an' check the fridge? See what we've got ta eat. I need ta know if your daddy kept up with the groceries or if the boys just ate out every night. I have ta get cookin' dinner soon. Your daddy'll be wantin' ta see his favorite daughter an' his dinner, in that order." She herded her son up the stairs as soon as Shanna nodded her enthusiastic agreement.

"We didn't eat out _every night_," Greg protested. "Except for the burgers… and the pizza… and Aunt Jerri came over with some Chinese food on Wednesday… and…," his piping voice faded away as they entered the rooms upstairs.

Shanna sniggered at her brother's rambling nonsense. She missed him so much, the little booger. And now she couldn't wait until her dad got home. She had it all planned out. He would come home from work and walk in the back door, calling out that he was home. She'd run down the hallway at full speed and give him a super flying glomp tackle, kissing every part of his face that wasn't covered with whiskers. And he'd hold her and hug her right up till dinner time so she'd really know that she was finally home again. With her family.

Her head rocked gently side to side as she smilingly tracked her brother's thundering footsteps across the ceiling above. She poked her head into the fridge. It was a little bare, but she saw all the stuff they'd need to make her favorite dinner, spaghetti and meatballs. She pulled out the food her mom would need to start fixing, lining it up very precisely alongside the pots and pans on the countertop. Tonight would be just perfect. Shanna was setting the dining room table when she heard it.

"Shanna," that same stupid, horrible voice that wasn't real, that no one else ever heard. Her eyes immediately spilled over with tears and she choked a little as her lungs seized. But she fought back and remembered. She thought about what the doctors had taught her, and about the kind things that Danny Phantom's very own sister had told her. None of this was real. None of the things she heard mattered unless she listened. And she didn't have to listen. Ever. So she stomped determinedly into the hallway to confront the thing that wasn't there, holding herself so tightly that she couldn't even begin to shiver. She wasn't afraid. She didn't have to be afraid.

"Shanna." She scowled at the shadowed space, resolute in her decision not to let nothing things ruin her homecoming.

"Shut up! You're not real!" Shanna hissed, careful not to let her mother overhear, just upstairs. Her confidence dissipated in a flaring pulse of disorientation when the world around her wavered and flickered. A nearly tangible wave of distortion rippled outwards from an almost invisible hole in midair. And a serpentine trail of fire trickled downwards, burning as it flowed. The smoldering hole rolled back at the edges to snarl ever wider as reality frayed. The pictures lining the walls all began to darken in the heat that spilled forth, glass warping in each frame. Shanna collapsed to her knees, breathless and unable to answer her mother's concerned call from somewhere overhead. She felt a thousand tiny thorns pierce her skin under the pressure of the eyes that watched her from the other side of that hole.

The voice spoke again as its owner stepped into our world. "Of course I am. I'm as real as you are, and you've just let me in."

* * *

"I know I'm supposed to be mature and unbiased in this job, but when that moron came back _again_ looking to get a permit with almost the same paperwork that we just turned down _last week_ I really wanted to tell him to get a life. And to kiss my b…" A tinny alarm interrupted Tucker's tirade mid-word. "…umm."

"Kiss your what?" Danny asked, looking up from his fully loaded plate.

"Huh? No, man. This alarm. It's for those sensors. That's so weird." He poked away at his PDA, trying to make sense of the readings it was reporting.

"Tucker, I know it was a really long day for you, but if you don't start making sense I'm going to have to do something truly wicked to you." Sam threatened with humorous menace.

He took the opportunity of being in his own home to sass back, and stuck his tongue out at her. "Not in front of my parents, you won't."

The Foleys only smiled at the byplay as they ate their dinner.

Danny shook his head. "Seriously, what sensors and why were they important enough to need an alarm?"

Now Tucker dropped back into a more sheepish pose. "Umm. Remember those sensors you were having me watch out at the Mills' house? They just went offline."

"Okay, were are they now?" Danny asked, not catching the significance of Tucker's statement.

"I think they're still at the house. They just…" Tucker attempted to explain, but Danny interrupted.

"Wait, they're still out there? I set those up almost two months ago. You were supposed to take them down about _one_ month ago because they never picked up any ghosts. Have they been running this whole time?"

Tucker's response was delayed once more, this time by Mrs. Foley. "Sam, honey, you're as pale as a gho…, er, a sheet. Are you okay?"

Everyone's attention turned to the Goth. "Oh? Yes, I'm just…" Sam's voice failed as she struggled to find a plausible excuse for her indisposition. Finally she was reduced to shrugging and shaking her head. How could she explain her fear to such straightforward people like the Foleys when it was based on superstition and a hodgepodge of ancient rituals?

Tucker tried to explain. "I was busy and I never got around to taking them out, but Mr. Mills never complained. The alarm went off because they stopped transmitting without being properly shut down. What's got me confused is that they all went down at the same time. Let me call, just to see what's going on over there." He excused himself to his parents, stepping into the kitchen. Danny followed. Sam remained at the table, watching them with a hand to her lips.

"Did they read anything before they stopped transmitting? Is there a ghost over there after all?" Danny persisted, but Tucker waved him off.

Finally, he gave up, hanging up the phone. "No answer. The sensors didn't pick up any ghosts. There was some kind of energy surge that apparently smoked the electronics inside of them, but no ectoplasmic energy. What's got me worried is that we didn't lose just one or two. We lost them all, all at once."

Sam said nothing, only rising from her seat to gather her bag from the table by the front door. Danny turned apologetically to the Foleys. "Sorry to interrupt dinner like this, but we should probably check this out."

Maurice Foley stood from his place at the table. "Don't worry about it, kids. We'll keep your plates warm. Danny, should we call your folks?"

Danny shook his head, "No. We don't even know if anything's really going on, yet. I can call them myself if we need to."

Kim Foley followed them to the door. She snagged Tucker before he slipped outside, planting a kiss on his temple. "Be careful, baby. All of you."

"We will be." Danny smiled charmingly, brushing aside the notion of danger. Kim smiled back despite herself.

Danny pulled forth his ghost and stepped outside so he'd have enough room to comfortably grab both his friends. He eyed Sam's large bag skeptically. "Do you need that whole thing? We'll probably be right back."

She snugged the fully loaded bag tightly to her back and gave Danny her hand. "It's got my kit. It goes everywhere with me." Danny assumed she was talking about her first aid kit and didn't question her further. She looked past Danny to Tucker at his other side. "Call the fire department and tell them to respond for a house fire. We'll probably need police, too."

Danny faltered a little as he took them into the air. "Huh?" They both stared at her. She gave them a no arguments look and they fought the urge to shrug. That wouldn't be the best move when they were mid-air. Tucker pulled out his phone with his free hand and started dialing.

Upon arrival they found the house ominously quiet. The few lights along the Mills' street were dim and nearly useless. A crescent moon sailed high overhead. The trio stood irresolutely in the yard. "Maybe nobody's home."

A barely audible creak drew their attention to the left of the house and the only green in a gray and white snowscape. High in the branches of an old yew tree perched a thin, black razorback boar. Tucker blinked and cleaned his glasses as if to correct what he saw. "Umm. Is that a pig in a tree?"

Sam stared at the apparition. "The fateful hog." The beast stared back at them, unmoving, its eyes a barely visible glimmer against its darkness. When Danny made a move as if to proceed up to the house, the pig oozed downward off the branch to land with a resounding thud on the ground below. It charged towards them. They stepped backwards in consternation, Danny going into a defensive stance between the threat and his friends. Halfway to them, the beast straightened up to stand on its rear legs, changing into an amorphous man shape. Though they couldn't see its features, each felt its challenging smile as it ducked sideways through the wall and into the dark house.

Tucker asked for their support again. "Tell me you guys saw that too. Was it a shapeshifter ghost?"

Danny shook his head and passed out Fenton Phones from his belt. "No. I don't know what it was, but it wasn't a ghost. It didn't set off my ghost sense. Can your tech find any active transmitters in the area? I'm really hoping this is some really elaborate prank."

Tucker shook off his stupor to manipulate his beloved technology. He came up empty. "No. There's a pretty strong EMF signal, but its non-directional, blanketing this whole area. That wasn't any kind of technology I'm familiar with."

Sam dropped her heavy bag to the snow and knelt to spread it wide and dig through it. She began to pull out various strange objects and deposit them in the pockets of her jacket and pants. Danny looked on in confusion. "I thought that was your first aid kit."

Sam took a moment to glance up at him. She nudged a white pouch with the familiar red cross insignia. "That's in here too. This is mostly my _other_ kit." Having loaded herself down to her satisfaction, she stood up again. A small pouch dangled from her fingers. She ordered Danny, "Change back for a second."

He wrinkled his brow, but complied. She dropped the pouch to hang around his neck. She tucked it into the neck of his shirt and gestured for him to change back. "Sam? What's this? We should be checking on the Mills."

She tapped the pendant at her throat again. "It's the same thing I'm wearing, just less girly. If it's on your human form, it can't be taken off by whatever that was." Sam held up a hand to halt his protest. "Humor me. If it works, it'll be a little good luck for you. Protection. If not, it won't bother you because it's tiny and not even on your ghost-form. You don't know what that thing was; Tucker doesn't know what that thing was. Let me go to work. I'm ready to do whatever it takes."

Danny felt a strange déjà vu, but couldn't place the connection. He waited half a breath to observe her gravely. "We're going to talk about this later."

Sam nodded, "After. Tucker, you stay out here and keep the authorities from entering the house until Danny gives you the all clear. Don't let anyone mess with my bag." She flipped on the Fenton Phone in her ear. "We'll go in and find out if there's anyone inside and deal with that… whatever that was."

A flickering glow licked at the windows as they entered the house and a ghost of smoke wafted out to mock Tucker where he stood watching from the front walk. "Not good." He backed out to the sidewalk to give directions to the arriving emergency crews. Police had set up a perimeter and firefighters had run out their hoses when Mr. Mills arrived home from work. The man abandoned his running car in the middle of the street as he ran up to the police line. He reached the gate, having to be forcibly restrained from entering the dwelling as he demanded news of his wife and children.

Everyone present shouted in fear when tongues of flame pierced the roof, dancing around sharp spires of ice.

* * *

Jeremiah 9:21 "For death is come up into our windows, [and] is entered into our palaces, to cut off the children from without, [and] the young men from the streets."

* * *

Thunder is louder than a horn.  
(Sing ninety-nine and ninety)  
Death is sharper than a thorn.  
Sing I'm the weaver's bonny.

* * *

A/N: This is turning out to be more spiritual than I originally intended, but it works with the whole otherworldly evil theme, so I'm just gonna go with it. The trio has a dedicated tutor now that PP's over. Helps them keep up with all their responsibilities. Fulgurite is known also known as lightning sand or sometimes "thunderbolt pearl". It's made when lightning strikes a clean, sandy bit of earth. Among other 'powers' it's supposed to ward off evil. The pendant I mentioned was very similar to one I actually found online. Pretty enough, but way too expensive to buy for a gift for anyone for Christmas. Sorry. Just like in many myths, acknowledging evil gives it power. In this case, Shanna gave it a name (You) and unwittingly gave it the power to open and enter a window into the human plane. Though she'd talked about the voice before, this was the first time she'd talked _to _it. Big mistake. Stupid shrinks, they don't know nothin'. No one ever mentioned Mrs. Foley's first name during the show, so I've called her Kim after her voice actress.


	4. And a Fray

**The Devil's Nine  
**by what-happened-2-nice

Chapter 4: And a Fray

A/N: Some graphic violence in this chapter. You've been warned. Also, I'm doing footnotes on this one. Look at the end for translations and explanations.

* * *

What is higher than a tree?  
(Sing ninety-nine and ninety)  
What is deeper than the sea?  
Sing I'm the weaver's bonny.

* * *

Danny pushed open the door, a low level ecto-charge lighting their path. Sam peered cautiously over his shoulder. "Hello? Anyone home?"

No one answered. When Danny had cleared the doorway, Sam reached across to toggle the light switch. "Lights aren't working."

"Of course not, that would make this too easy. I don't see that thing anywhere."

Sam flipped on her flashlight while Danny boosted the power of the ecto-charge around his hand, holding it high. They panned around the vestibule, nudging open the inner door to peek into the darkened hallway beyond. Danny stooped to investigate the legs of a small table on the right. "This is all charred, but I don't smell any smoke. Do you?"

Sam tested the air, but only vaguely found traces of dust, cold, dry air, and… was that rot? "No, but look… The glass all through here is slumping. That takes very high temperatures and a slow burn. An old wood house like this would have more damage. No way something like that wouldn't leave a smoke smell, even if it happened months ago."

"I'd ask how you know that, but I'm not sure I really want to know." She flashed him a razor thin grin. "Anyway, I was here a couple of months ago and there wasn't anything out of place. I had that contractor I know come by and vet the house, too; he gave it the all clear." Danny straightened up from his crouch.

Sam nodded, "I guess we should go check out the rest of the house then." Neither one moved. "Where were the sensors? We should gather them up and get them to Tucker to look at."

Danny stared into the darkness, still unwilling to leave the tiny vestibule. "There were some in the hallway ahead there, and there were a few down in the basement. Mr. Mills, Mrs. Mills? Hello?" The last were called rather plaintively into the dark house.

Sam bit her lip and laughed at their timidity. "We've watched too many horror movies."

"Way too many." Danny suppressed a shiver. "Okay. Top to bottom?"

"Suits me, because we know the monster is always in the basement. We can build dramatic tension this way." The light from her flashlight jittered, though neither could say if it was due to laughter or nerves.

"Stop it. The stairs are this way, at the far end of the hallway." He tugged lightly at her hand, leading the way into the darkened house. A few steps in, they heard a small whimpering noise from the upstairs landing overlooking the formal sitting room on the right. They moved faster, but just as quickly pulled back. Half a dozen steps from the front door and a wave of dizziness spread over the both of them. The walls pulled away. They could see the foot of the stairs just ahead, but there was something blocking their way. It pulsed and the walls rocked even further back. The two teens lurched, leaning dizzily into each other as they tried to process what they were seeing. The hallway seemed to have doubled in size to accommodate the ragged incongruity hanging midair. A quick glance into the sitting room showed them some furtive movement up on the landing.

Sam mumbled to herself, "A fray? How the heck was I supposed to guess it meant _this_?" Her words sounded through the distended space. Then It came. In a slowly condensing fog, the beast gathered in the place between the two of them and the rift. It swallowed the light as it gained substance, concentrating into solidity. And it seemed to have gained bulk since they'd last seen it in the yard outside. Instead of a smallish man-shape it loomed many feet over their heads, hunched forward in anticipation.

Danny molded his ecto-charge into a shield between himself and the beast, maneuvering so that Sam stood behind him. "Well, crap. How do we get past that? Any of that?"

Sam bit her lip. Though featureless, she could feel it observing them with a kind of amused distain. "I just had to bring up horror movies. Okay. Danny, I'm going to have to violate rule number four _and_ eleven to take care of business there. Can you keep it busy so we can all get on with a modified rule twenty-eight*?"

Danny turned his head back towards her, but never let his eyes leave the dark shape. "I don't like that plan, Sam."

"Duh," she placed a hand gently on his shoulder from behind. "Do you have a better idea?"

He bared his teeth. "No. Alright, let's get this over with." Danny dropped the shield to fire a fierce two-fisted ectoblast at the monster, giving Sam the distraction she needed to slip away into the living room. She would be trying to circle around. The fearsome shape took the bait, grunting under the impact of Danny's blast, but otherwise showing no damage. The beast pulled itself upright, head brushing the ceiling as it summoned an energy blast of its own. Sullen orange flames licked up its arms and across its shoulders, lighting the walls but seeming only to cast their possessor into deeper darkness. Danny caught the searing discharge on his shield, swaying backwards slightly under the blow. Rather than burning through his ectoplasm, the flames seemed to stick and erode through his energy, eating away at it like a slow acid. Danny's stomach churned at the feel of it through his powers.

He grimaced in disgust and the beast cocked its head in interest. It attempted a steady stream of fire, playing the torrent across Danny's shield. It ventured a series of rapid-fire blasts and the remaining furnishings began to smolder. Danny simply replaced each shield as the last wore away, easily keeping pace with the incoming attacks. He made no effort to go on the offensive. Sam still needed time. Finally the beast wrapped its fire around itself once more, gazing at him thoughtfully from within the blaze. Danny met its unseen eyes as it stared at him. He felt a sodden, rotting weight tugging at his mind, reminiscent of the coercion of Freakshow's staff. Fortunately this creeping impulse seemed a mere suggestion rather than an indisputable command. He shook it off.

Danny raised a challenging brow and let his eyes and powers flare brightly in a showy display of contempt.

The monster spoke for the first time. "Dasālux‡. Interesting. A union? Bridging the chasm, perhaps. Ah well, I much prefer the hands-on method." It lunged forward, backhanding Danny through the wall into the living room. It followed after him just as Sam scurried through the doorway into the dining room and dashed across the vacated hallway to the stairs. Danny recovered and straightened up, brushing the plaster dust from his shoulders. A quick glance showed Sam safely on her way up the stairs. He engaged the creature again, opening up with a rapid volley of ectoblasts and using their cover to get in close for a flying punch to its face. They tumbled back out into the hallway.

Upstairs, Sam found Sherry hunched just inside the bathroom door, Greg held tightly in her arms. She smiled as reassuringly as she could. "Hi there, I'm Sam. I'm going to get you out of here while Danny distracts that thing, okay?" A murmured word and subtle, abbreviated hand motion showed that these two were as they seemed to be: no glamours, no outside influence. "Is Shanna up here with you? Or your husband?"

Sherry found her voice. She shook her head, saying, "Glenn should still be at work. Shanna was downstairs in the kitchen. I don't know where she is now. She didn't answer when I called. Do you think she made it outside?" Her voice weakened under the weight of painful hope.

Sam looked away, avoiding eye contact. "Maybe she did. We have a friend outside and the police are already on the way. They can help look." She pulled out a small bottle filled with miniscule white crystals and scattered them down the stairs and along the railing of the landing.

"I- is that blessed salt?" Greg asked timorously.

Sam looked back at him, dividing her attention between the frightened boy and the action downstairs. "Nope, kosher." Her smile was more amused this time, glinting with humor. "The important thing is that it's salt. Pure salt does whatever you tell it to. In this case, it's purifying and protecting. It's warding our path... it's also good on French fries." She winked at him.

Sam pulled Sherry to her feet, urging the mother and son to follow, "We can't go downstairs, but the windows in front open up onto the porch roof. We can drop down from there."

Danny's frustrated voice rose up to them from below following a booming crash. "What are you?"

They paused to listen, hugging the wall of the upstairs hallway and waiting for the fight to resume so that they could escape under the cover of its racket.

The monster replied, its voice seeping along the air even as it reverberated in their bones. "I? I am Any and All. I am the Child of Drhug and Lamia. _I_ _am Here_. What are you, sapling?"

A goofy grin spread across Danny's face, quite outside of his control. "I'm Danny. I'm what separates you…," he pointed a finger at the nebulous creature, then spread his hands wide, forming an arc of spitting ectoenergy between them, "… from all of this. Time to crawl back under your rock, Ugly." He released the charge and closed into hand-to-hand combat again.

The fighters exchanged a series of blows, further damaging the walls and furnishings of the bloated space as they crashed about. The beast lanced a massive arm towards Danny's face. Danny knocked the blow aside, but it left him open for a harsh kick to the underside of his chin. His head snapped back as he absorbed the hit, flipping him into a reverse tumble. He recovered as he sailed back towards the far wall, kicking off empty air to rocket back at the creature. His wide swing was blocked and he took a blow to the face and two hits to his ribs, recoiling in pain. Another jab from his opponent, and he was able to grab the beast's arm with glowing hands. He flipped It completely over his head to slam with resounding force onto the floor of the sitting room.

The monster drew back into the destroyed room, growling and wreathing itself in flames. It held one arm high, letting the blaze climb and build to a miniature inferno in its gnarled hand. Danny braced himself behind a solid shield, ready to take the blow. But the fiend only smirked in a rictus even more terrible than the corruption that spread from its invisible eyes. It released the fireball… straight at the open landing and the ceiling overhead. Sam gasped and shoved Sherry and Greg ahead of her, back into the safety of the bathroom as the floor where they'd been standing exploded. Danny roared, reaching deep for the cold at his core and throwing up a jagged tower of glowing ice that pierced upwards through the heart of the house. Most of the massive fireball splashed against the spire, tongues of flame stabbing through the roof and dancing around the glowing crystal.

The group upstairs choked on smoke, looking back at their blocked escape route. Between the now actively burning flames and the wall of ice, they were trapped. They'd have to find another way out. Tucker's panicked voice sputtered through the Fenton Phones, asking if they were all okay. Sam pressed the Phone tightly into her ear. "We're fine! Everybody's in one piece. But Danny's save just cut us off from the front of the house." A muttered 'Sorry!' from Danny though his headset had her rolling her eyes. "Don't worry about it, Danny. We all prefer to stay uncooked if given the option. Tucker, I hear sirens. Can you send a ladder crew around to the back?"

Sherry spoke up, coughing, "We'll have ta go through Shanna's room. The windows in back are too small ta crawl through and Greg's window opens over some really deep bushes. We never had time ta clear them out." She pointed out the right direction.

Sam nodded and propelled them all across the soot-covered floor to Shanna's doorway. She spoke quickly into the headset, "We're going out the side window on the left-hand rear of the house. Have someone meet us there so we don't have to jump."

Downstairs, the beast chuckled its amusement. The sound billowed forth in a tangible fog of bile and decay. Danny strangled in the stench. "Ugh, foul! I'll warn you right now that it's gonna take a lot more than bad breath to finish me off."

It leered at Danny, looming over him. "I know what you're doing, little hero. It doesn't matter if the others get away. I'll find them eventually. All in your world shall die at my whim. Until then, I'll occupy myself with your slow dismemberment."

It pounced.

* * *

Interlude

Shanna huddled in darkness. She could hear hidden flames crackling and popping around her. The beast's putrid voice coiled around her and echoed sickly in her head. "Sweet child, you've been of such use to me. I offer you a bargain. Kill for me. Strike down another and win a life. Your mother for your brother. Or your brother for dear mother. Kill one to save one and I will let you live as well."

Shanna sobbed. "No. I can't kill them. I love them."

The fiend constricted around her, its hatred a thousand points of fire beneath her skin. "Stupid girl. You are already cursed for what you've done. You welcomed me into this world. Everyone will die, all because of you. I am offering you a gift. A reward for your service. Kill. Any blow you deliver will be far more merciful than what I have planned. And in return, you get to keep one. Who do you treasure more, little one? You have to choose."

She could only shiver, curled as small as possible within the endless nothing-place surrounding her. It was so cold here. She was more than ready to wake up from this nightmare.

* * *

Danny crashed backwards through the air, demolishing what remained of the now fiercely burning stairway. The splintered embers tore through his suit, making him wheeze in pain. He quickly spread his fingers wide, eyes flashing otherworldly blue as he spread a layer of ice across the pyre beneath him. The beast's flames were immediately doused and Danny resisted the urge to smack himself in his already sore face. "Stupid. Use ice powers against the flamethrower monster thing. Maybe I should use my brain while I'm at it."

He ducked a piece of flaming debris falling from the ceiling overhead, using frigid energy from eyes and hands to smother all the visible flames around him. The soothing flow of his ice powers flooded him from within while the ice he'd created cooled the air without. He hadn't even realized the toll the dark creature's rising heat had been taking on him. He sighed in relief. And the beast appeared, closing the space between them.

Danny rolled under a blow, skittering a bit across the icy floor. He took advantage of his new vantage to lay some more ice, willing the sheets to glow with ghostly power. The lighting in the weirdly engorged dwelling shifted from a hellish red-orange to a softer blue-green. The monster watched him closely as Danny circled the pillar of ice in the center of the house. When Danny tried a two-handed blast of cryogenic energies, the fiend countered with its flames. The beams collided in a massive explosion of blue and crimson light. Their combined energies consumed one another, crumpling into a small knot of spectral luminescence before blasting outwards in a thick pall of smog. Smoke and steam obscured the hazy space, hiding Danny's opponent.

He didn't even have time to grumble a curse before he felt it. The beast had dispersed once more, using the cover from the blast to become a formless mist. It surrounded Danny, crushing him from all sides with the pressure of the abyss and forcing precious air from his lungs. Danny's mouth gaped as he tried unsuccessfully to breathe. Weakened, he felt the fiend try to violate his mind again. His eyes squeezed shut as he denied entry to the invading force. No one would ever control him like that again. The grimy foreign essence shied back from his mind and Danny was finally able to summon the strength to fight back. Collapsing in on himself, he curled into a tight ball. One heartbeat, two… and he released a massive, cold-infused ectoblast from every surface of his body. It drove off his foe, but left him weak, wobbling blindly back. The monster reformed near the front door, laughing at Danny's distress. His stomach clenched as the putrescent, frothing sound assaulted his ears.

"So resistant. I find that I'm quite enjoying this defiance of yours, ghostling. Let's continue, shall we?" The beast surged forward, driving Danny back-first into the towering ice column that stabbed through the roof. The collision sent tremors surging through the frigid mass, wakening a chorus of groans and crackling from the overburdened structure of the house. Disoriented and breathless, Danny slid down to the floor. The spire of ice behind him gave a final shudder before crashing through the floorboards into the basement. Danny had to take to the air again to keep from hurtling down with it.

The fiend plucked him out of his flight by an arm, swinging him around violently and smashing him completely through the dividing wall between the living and dining rooms. Reversing the swing, It crushed him against the load-bearing support beam that had just been exposed. The beam splintered under the impact, bowing outwards. Danny's shoulder gave way under the strain, his arm pulling free from the socket with a sickening pop. He screeched his agony through gritted teeth as the beast tossed him casually across the room. Danny rolled to a stop amid the rubble. He tried to rise, but dropped almost immediately to his knees. It approached him at an almost leisurely pace, shedding waves of rolling heat. The scattered piles of debris around Danny ignited. Rising smoke stung his eyes as it danced through the draft from the new hole in the roof above.

Danny managed to waft upward from the smoldering wreckage of the dining table, his legs disappearing into a misty trail beneath him. Transformation rings started to sputter at his waist, but he forced them back. He had just enough time to raise a frost across the flames below before the fiend twisted itself into a whirlwind of darkness. It lashed out, landing a blow squarely in Danny's chest. He sailed through the door into the kitchen, knocking appliances awry. He'd just managed to sit up, spinning head in hands, when he heard a hissing noise. And the beast appeared, closing the space between them.

* * *

Sam, Sherry, and Greg looked across the endless expanse of Shanna's darkened room, completely bewildered. Instead of a toy-strewn bedroom, they saw only unfathomable gloom and strange, shapeless obstacles. Greg whimpered, sliding down his mother's side to huddle at her feet. They both began to cry silent tears of terror. Sam rounded on them with ferocious determination. "Don't give up yet. This is probably just a trick. The kind of power it would take to actually distort space like this… No. That's not an acceptable scenario. We're going to cross the room to the window. Greg goes out to the firemen first, then you, Sherry. I'll follow."

Sam spoke into her headset again, "Tucker, is the rescue crew ready over here?"

His reply was lost in static, but it sounded affirmative. She frowned in resolve. Even if the ladder wasn't there, they could still drop down from the windowsill. Falling roughly fifteen feet into drifted snow might hurt, but it wouldn't kill them. It was time to get out of this madhouse. She kneeled beside Greg, gathering him into her arms. "It's going to be okay. Just be brave a little longer. You have Danny Phantom downstairs fighting the monster. I'm right here with you, and I'm almost as tough as he is. It's okay to be afraid, but you _can't stop. _Just hold on tight, follow me to the window, and escape outside. We can do this."

Greg trembled, looking up at her with watery eyes. "Is Phantom gonna win?"

Sam took his head tenderly into her hands and looked directly into his eyes. She spoke with unshakable belief. "Danny always wins." She smiled again and the dazzlingly intense expression seemed strangely fitting, despite her dark clothes and makeup. "He's the good guy. He'll find a way. It's our job to do everything we can to get to safety while he does his job of taking out the bad guy. The more we do for ourselves, the less he has to worry about. Come on."

She could hear the chaotic fight seething below them. Its din reached them through an interminable distance, feeling so far away though she knew it raged only feet below. As grim as the situation seemed, Sam felt not the slightest hint of doubt in her heart. She would not allow any. Danny _always_ won.

Sam stood again, holding one of Greg's hands tightly in her own as Sherry took the other. She led them into the room. Looking down she saw a thin strip of something that looked like Fenton technology circling Greg's wrist. "What's this?"

He looked up at her. "It's a extra special ghost-proof bracelet that Phantom gave me. Shanna got one, too. He said it wouldn't let anything ghostly touch us. I didn't even take it off when everybody decided Shanna was crazy."

Sherry scolded, "Shanna's not crazy, Greg! If anythin', all this proves she was hearin' a voice all along." She blinked back more tears, biting her lip.

Sam played the light from her flashlight across the floor ahead of them, moving deeper into the room. "That was a while ago. Does the bracelet still work? Is it on?"

Greg opened his eyes wide as he shook his head. "No. I turned it off because Phantom said it might zap him."

"Well, turn it back on! Danny's parents are getting better at making stuff that won't hurt him. I'm pretty sure he won't get more than an itty-bitty shock if he _does_ have to touch you. And it might work against other stuff." Sam thought for a moment before deciding that a distraction wouldn't hurt at this point. "Danny said you had a priest come out to say a blessing."

Sherry nodded. "The Reverend. His blessing seemed ta take for a while, but Shanna started hearin' things again after a few months. Eventually we had ta get a hold of your friend Danny. No one else would come." She turned her head away to look into the surrounding shadows, not nearly as confident in Danny's ability to carry the day as Sam seemed to be. Her face was sad. "He's a kind young man."

Sam forged onward across the room. "He is. I was just asking about your faith because I had an idea. Greg, do you know any good prayers?"

The boy nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! I go to bible study every weekend. I know lots of prayers!"

Sam nodded back at him. "Why don't you say them now? I think it might really help and it will make you and your mom feel better, I'm sure."

He bounced a little as they walked and started to recite. He paused when Sam didn't join in. "You're not gonna say them with me?"

"No, but don't let that stop you." Sam looked back at the far-off doorway as a boom shook the house. A cloud of dust filled with flickering lights obscured the entry. "I'm Jewish, so I don't know all the same prayers as you. They all go to the same place, though. You say your prayers in English and I'll say mine in Hebrew. Ready?"

They'd never know if she threw in a few esoteric incantations. Sam and Greg started to recite together while Sherry warily watched the wavering shapes in the murk of the room around them. Another crash rattled the floorboards and Sam could faintly hear Danny scream through her Fenton Phones. She frowned, pulling another arcane curio from an inner pocket of her jacket with her flashlight hand. He _always_ won.

They pushed on.

In a few hours-long moments they finally reached the window. A ladder rested against the sill and a vague figure waited outside, hand outstretched. Sam slipped the window open and passed Greg forward. The fireman outside took him into a secure hold and started to descend towards the ground. Sherry had just raised her hand to climb the sill when the house rocked under the force of a huge gas explosion in the kitchen below. The structural integrity of the dwelling failed beneath this final onslaught. Shanna's floor collapsed under them, sending both Sam and Sherry tumbling backwards down the sloping surface. They disappeared into a cloud of dust that marked the entrance to the basement, screaming and trying to grab a safe hold to halt their fall.

Outside, the fire chief could only utter a faint 'damn' as the house began to collapse. He called his men back, ordering the hose team to continue spraying the structure and surrounding homes. The ladder crew retreated to the gate where Glenn still strained against the policemen's holds. The moment Greg was within reach, Glenn managed to get free enough to snatch him up into his own arms. They were escorted to a waiting ambulance so that the boy could be checked over. Glenn's eyes never strayed from the house, even as he held his son tight.

Tucker watched the whole scene from the sidelines, his jaw sagging. He'd called the Fentons, who would be on site within ten minutes, three if Jack was driving. Though the situation was undoubtedly bad on a much smaller scale than the Disasteroid crisis, (wasn't it?) he felt the same numbing sense of disbelief. He'd hated that feeling then, never wanting to feel so powerless again. But here he was. His friends were still inside, but they had to be all right. (Right?) Feeling helpless, he clutched tightly at Sam's bag. His knuckles protested the pressure of his grip. He looked down at his hands and realized... "Oh no, she didn't. Sam did not leave me holding her purse." That was it! They had to make it out hale and whole now, because Tucker needed the chance to chew them out for this indignity.

* * *

The beast stood firm in the settling dust of the explosion, holding Danny's head in one massive hand. It cocked its head as it felt the young human boy moving away. A rippling motion reminiscent of a shrug distorted its form. There would be time to pursue after it had gathered the strength it needed to move further from the rift. No one would escape it for long. In the meantime it had the women in the basement, it had the girl, and it had the dasālux‡. Though the troublesome brat would not stop struggling.

Danny thrashed in the monster's hold, trying to free his face enough to take in breath. The beast merely tightened its hold, lifting Danny clear of the floor as its fingers snaked tautly around the back of his head. He tried going intangible, but the substance of the monster's flesh _adapted_ somehow to block his effort. The clashing energies tingled across his spectral skin. Although, it could have been the lack of air beginning to affect him. His head was pounding under the strain of the fiend's grasp, blood struggling to reach his brain. Danny found himself wondering vaguely if his skull would collapse before his eyes burst and leaked out of their sockets.

Wearying of Danny's efforts to free himself, the beast started using him as a battering ram to destroy the remainder of the house. Somehow, as his vision began to fade around the edges, Danny saw a brilliant point of light. His struggles faltered and he went still, good hand prying feebly at the monster's arm. Even half ghosts needed air.

* * *

Heaven's higher than a tree.  
(Sing ninety-nine and ninety)  
And Hell is deeper than the sea.  
Sing, I'm the weaver's bonny.

* * *

A/N: * From a list of Rules to Survive a Horror Movie - Rule #4: Never split up when you are in a large group. Rule #11: Don't go upstairs. Rule #28: When something (insert creepy happening here), then GET OUT! Can you guess rule #1? I bet you can.

‡ Dasālux is a nonsense word I made up from a combination of Sanskrit and Latin. It would translate loosely as servant of light.

I watched that totally awesome fight scene in 'Return of the Dragon' for inspiration in my fight scene here. Bruce Lee vs. Chuck Norris before an audience of feral cats. Classic!


	5. An Evening's Fall

**The Devil's Nine  
**by what-happened-2-nice

Chapter 5: An Evening's Fall

* * *

What's more innocent than a lamb?  
(Sing ninety-nine and ninety; )  
What is worse than all mankind?  
And who is the weaver's bonny?

* * *

It stood amid the wreckage of what once had been a warm and welcoming home and considered. There was time enough. It had had centuries… millennia to learn patience and it could afford to weigh the options available to plot out a plan forward. To measure pleasure against more tangible rewards. It gazed rather indifferently past the burning timbers of the collapsed house towards the cringing herd milling about in the street beyond. Pathetic. They cowered below the burden of his gaze alone. Foolish prey. This hadn't even begun.

A sudden unexpected sting from the dasālux brought Its attention back to the matter at hand. It petulantly tossed the boy away, favoring an appendage that had been scored by spectral ice laced with ectoplasmic fire. The action must have been an instinctive last resort, since the boy was barely conscious. It growled irritably to Itself and in Its displeasure It decided.

Yes. That would do nicely. It would honor those who were present for Its emergence with something more than simple death. Killing the innocent was so easy, after all. There remained time and time enough for that in what was to come. Here now stood an opportunity for true evil. And in Its gory investiture, they would all fall. The corruption of Its innocent little tool by influencing her to murder. The blood of a hero sacrificed before he'd reached even a fraction of his potential. The despair of his flock when they realized he no longer stood between them and their End.

There had been some risk in attempting a crossing in a place that had its own guardian, even one who had not been set to guard against anything remotely like It. But with great risk came greater rewards. The weakness between worlds, engendered by a confluence of natural stresses, man's meddling in things that did not concern him, and the steady traffic between this plane and one of ectoplasmic energies. The girl, able to hear and foolish enough to act. The Time, too early for the dasālux to have come into his strength, but late enough that his actions along that path would allow him and those he protected to know and believe in Other. And that belief… that belief would exponentially increase the amount of energy It would be able to draw in the next few minutes, so much greater than just the energies of violent death and so much more satisfying. Energies enough to not only snap the tether that bound It to the rift, but to propel Itself well into godhood. Its irritation curdled into smug satisfaction.

"Let us begin."

* * *

Shanna shivered in darkness, the only sound the chattering of her teeth and the crackling of the flames that froze her.

Until It returned Its attention to her where she huddled.

"Shanna."

"No, I won't." Her words were faint against the void.

"Hush, my instrument. I won't make you destroy them when it is obvious how much you value them. As I value you. I won't make you kill your family, but neither will I gift them to you. You must earn them. You earned your life when you opened the door between our worlds. You can earn their lives by doing one simple thing for me."

She whimpered.

Something stroked down her spine in a skin-crawling parody of a gentle caress. "It's a small enough thing. Give me your hero. Give me the phantom."

Sheer disbelief gave her voice more strength. "W-what?"

"You don't want to kill any of your treasured family, so kill the hero instead."

"No!"

"Yes. You have no choice. You belong to me now. You Damned yourself by giving me entrance into this world. Kill him and save your family. Please me, and they will be spared. It won't even be hard, since he is so close to death already."

Shanna curled tightly into herself in an attempt to block out the voice. The weight of his growing impatience pressed against her, driving the air from her lungs. "You fail to understand, pet. It's what he's made for. Sacrifice. It's why he exists."

She raised her head from her arms and shook her confusion to the darkness. "I won't. That doesn't even make any sense."

"Of course it does. You have heard of martyrs, yes?"

Her eyes strained for the slightest hint of light. She answered cautiously, "Yes."

"What else is a hero? He puts himself at risk for the sake of strangers. He places his life on the line, again and again, for little thanks and no real reward on this plane. Sooner or later, he fails and he dies. Willingly, even eagerly. And he does it all because he believes it the right thing to do, because he believes the lives of others more than worth the cost of his own. And there, finally, he finds his destiny. He is rewarded in death by eternity in memory. A hero is essentially, in his purest sense, a martyr to his people. By doing this you will not only gratify me, but you will help him achieve his ultimate purpose. You will help him become what he is meant to be, what he wants to be."

The words curled seductively in her mind, twisting with an awful kind of truth. The pressure around her lightened as It sensed her wavering. "Yes. You see now, don't you? And it is the only way. Your family, who you value so very dearly, or your hero, who would willingly give his life for theirs… choose."

She sobbed, tears pouring down her face.

A sigh roiled past her, redolent of acidic decay. Shanna gagged. "I will make this even easier for you. The phantom is quite a bit weaker than you and his other little worshipers believed him to be. And in our meeting I was not as… gentle… as I should have been."

He is hurt, Shanna, very badly. He suffers. You don't want that, do you? You don't want him to be in pain. I promise you, it is very, very agonizing, the state he finds himself in now. By killing him, you would be sparing him further pain. You would give him his martyrdom and you would end his suffering."

You have served me so very well, my sweet lamb, that I will even give you this."

She opened swollen eyes to finally see something amid the Nothing that held her. Something that was wickedly sharp and practically humming with power.

"Go and give him our gift of a meaningful death. Magnificent. Noble… Heroic. Take this weapon, admirable in its own Abyssal history. The Fang of Rahab, who rests in salt and time. Strike deep and give Phantom the peace he will never know in life."

Shanna accepted the Fang into trembling hands.

* * *

Sam opened her eyes with a soul-deep moan. Her ears were ringing. She blinked at the smoldering debris around her with a kind of vague curiosity through the fog of pain and smoke. What? Where?

Her situation came back to her abruptly and she sat up as quickly as she could with her throbbing head. "Oh, no. Mrs. Mills? Sherry? Please be okay, please be okay, please be o…" She broke off to listen to a faint rustling on the other side of the darkened basement. Crawling apprehensively towards it, she changed the tone of her chant. "Please don't be rats, please don't be rats."

A cough and groan caused her to sigh in relief, even as her hand fumbled across her dropped flashlight. She flipped the switch on and off and smacked it in her palm a couple of times until it grudgingly sputtered some light. Sherry Mills blinked dazedly in the glare, definitely concussed, possibly worse. Sam set the light on the gritty floor, aimed at her companion. "Sherry, can you hear me?" The woman nodded slowly. Sam started a quick examination. She found scrapes, bruises, some minor burns, but nothing too badly hurt yet. She had to re-evaluate her conclusion when Sherry gasped sharply while sitting up. Sam probed with gentle fingers.

"Dang it. Sherry? It looks like you have a concussion and some ribs that are at least badly bruised, maybe even broken. I'm going to tape you up enough that you can move, and then we really have to get out of here. Okay?" Sherry blinked at her.

Sam twisted her lips in exasperation and grunted, "I'll take that as a yes."

Scrambling across the floor, she found an overturned laundry basket with some sheets. Since her first aid kit was still up top with Tucker, this would have to do. A flip of the wrist and a few quick slashes later and her pocketknife gave her some neat strips of cloth to use for bandaging. She moved back over to Sherry and spoke soothingly to her.

"Mrs. Mills? I'm going to wrap this around your chest now. Rest your arms up here around my shoulders and I'll do the rest, okay? There you go." Moving with the ease of way too much practice she wrapped the impromptu bandage around Sherry's ribs tightly enough to hold her stiff, loosely enough to spare any bruising and leave her room to breathe. She used just the right angles and pressure to ensure that any broken bones would be cradled, rather than ground against each other.

Sherry looked down, a bit more awareness coming into her eyes. "…where did you…?"

Sam grinned ruefully at her. "You learn all sorts of interesting things when you're one of Danny's friends. Ready to go?"

Sherry nodded. "Okay. Wait. Greg… did Greg…"

Sam looked around the floor for the item she'd been holding when they fell. "He got out the window to the firemen, remember? He's safe. Now we have to go. Aha!" She found the dime-sized marble, gleaming amid the dusty trash on the floor. Closing it tightly in her fist, she held it in front of her and murmured, "Show me the way out. Guide us to safety."

"What did you say?"

"Nothing. Let's go. We can get out this way." Sam nodded in the direction of the pressure she felt against her fingers. She moved to help Sherry stand, then both of them fell into a heap with dismayed cries of pain. "Ouch! Crap, my leg! I didn't even notice that. I was so worried about you."

Practiced eyes noted a rapid swelling that was undoubtedly a sprained ankle. Sherry glanced askance at her, and Sam shrugged. "We can crawl. It's probably safer anyway. Come on." She led the way on hands and knees, moving slowly to spare Sherry as much as she could. Her soft encouragements of 'almost there', 'not far now', 'take it slow' whispered through the darkness along with the creaking of the house's overtaxed supports and the gentle patter of settling rubble. She couldn't hear anything from upstairs, and resolutely decided not to think about what that might mean. There wasn't much she could do about it right now, anyway.

Sam followed the guidance of the sphere in her hand until it hummed gently. Destination. She glanced up and was just barely able to make out the dim outline of a window overhead. She started to hold her hand to her ear to call over the Fenton Phones. "Tucker! I need some help down…" She paused when her fingers touched her ear, and nothing else. The earpiece was gone. "You have got to be kidding me. Ugh."

She glared at the window as if it had conspired against her. Fine, she could do this herself. No problem. Sam gently guided Sherry to lean back against the basement wall, and then used it to climb up to her good foot. With a long bit of wood, she jimmied the window open then pulled herself into an excruciating chin-up on the sill. Kicking against the wall and shoving with all her might, she managed to throw her upper body through the open window into the fire-melted slush and mud on the other side.

Just a moment to rest, Sam panted, face down in the muck. Then gathering herself, she shouted as loudly as she could. "HEY! WE NEED SOME HELP OVER HERE!"

Her cry was answered almost immediately by a scrambling of feet. She looked up from the mud with relief that quickly turned to recognition and dismay. "No! Where did you…?"

* * *

Danny shivered on the floor, trying to pull himself together during this unexpected respite from the battle. He'd turned human again, and his body couldn't decide if it should shiver because of all the ice he'd thrown around, or cringe because of the fires that were still burning. He counted slow, measured breaths and allowed himself to slide further over to his ghostly side. He felt his ghost absorbing the fear energies of the people outside (Wow, a lot of that to go around. Must be worse than he thought), and felt the weird, bubbling fission of energy that came from feeding off his own riotous emotional state. It wasn't a comfortable feeling, but he needed every erg he could get at the moment. With one ear listening behind for the sound of the Beast approaching, he directed all the energy he held into healing himself enough to continue the fight.

A bleary look upwards showed there wasn't much left of the house he'd entered just a little while ago. Maybe as soon as he could get upright again, it would be a good time for a strategic retreat. Where were the others?

Between one blink and the next, Shanna appeared in front of him. She trembled violently, regarding at him with enormous eyes. They flickered up to a spot behind and above him, then returned to his prone form. Danny felt the stare of the monster weighing heavily on them both, but for the moment it seemed content to let things play out. Right, time for some privacy then. As Shanna raised what looked like either a short sword or a really long knife made of ivory above her head, Danny created a thick, glowing dome of shielding ice around the two of them.

Shanna hiccuped a sob, "I don't want to kill you."

He looked solemnly up at her. "I don't want to die."

"He said I have to. He said he'd let my family live and you were hurt really bad anyway… and… and… he gave me this and told me… " Her arms shook badly enough that he thought she might drop her weapon. "He said horrible things, but they made sense and I don't… I don't know…"

"Shanna," somehow _Danny_ saying her name pushed away some of the darkness that had been crushing her. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

"The best liars are the ones that tell you just enough of the truth to convince you that what they're telling you is right, but not enough of the truth to let you see that they're fooling you. Whatever that thing told you was probably a lie. Or several lies." He grunted as he pushed himself into a seat against the wall of ice. "The bad guys always want you to feel helpless so that you don't realize you can fight back against them. You can choose for yourself right now. What _do_ you want to do? Just you, with no one telling you what you should be doing. What feels right to _you_?"

Shanna closed her eyes, biting her lip. "I want… I want to get away from here. I want to be safe with my parents and brother and far, far away." She swung the Fang down with all of her strength, burying it deep, and pulled back crying as it vibrated in place.

Danny smiled. "Then let's get you out of here." He reached past the blade where it was embedded in the floorboard near his knee to hand her a little pouch he'd been wearing. "Here, you should probably have this, too. It's supposed to be good luck."

She opened her eyes. "Are you sure? You look awful." She slipped the cord from the pouch over her head.

He laughed, very quietly. "I believe you."

Danny slid back down onto his side. "I'm going to play dead. You go hunker down over against the far wall there. That thing will probably come to look, so while I distract it, you run away as fast as you can. There are some people outside who can help you get away."

She curled herself against the far side of the dome, near what had been her front door. "Can you beat him?"

"I don't know, Shanna. But I'm going to try my best. I promise. You ready?" She nodded.

He curled himself around the blade as if it were in _him_ instead of the floor, and allowed the shield to crumble into a dramatic cloud of snow and arcing green light. As the last of the icy wall faded away, his arm brushed the Fang. And time stopped.

* * *

Phantom flashed a brilliant white and Shanna ran. She floundered through the snow of a front yard that seemed much too long towards the flashing lights of a fire truck. She'd made it only a handful of stumbling steps when she heard someone yell.

"HEY! WE NEED SOME HELP OVER HERE!"

Shanna lurched to a stop, looking longingly at safety ahead, then back towards the voice behind her. What she wanted could wait just a few moments more. If Phantom could keep fighting when he was hurt so bad, then she could help someone who needed it… just for a moment. Safety would just have to come and meet them halfway. She ran back to the side of the house.

She found a dark haired young woman lying in the muck. She started to lean down to help the girl out of the slush when Sam looked up. The relief in her eyes quickly became shock as she saw the little pouch swinging from Shanna's neck. "No! Where did you…?"

Shanna grabbed at the little bag. "Phantom gave it to me. Are you his friend?"

Sam grimaced, letting Shanna help pull her the rest of the way out of the basement. "I'm Sam, his girlfriend. And he is in so much trouble when this is over."

They both jolted when a bright green beam of light shot from somewhere out in the street to hit the remains of the house. A horrible growling noise started up from where it hit.

"He's in trouble right now." Shanna stated seriously.

They turned together to find where the energy beam had started and saw Maddie Fenton standing in a firing stance atop the GAV, holding an absurdly enormous ghost-fighting rifle. She opened fire again just as Jack lumbered up, swept one girl under each arm, and turned to run back to the police line out in the street. "Hey, kids! Time to go!"

Sam squirmed in his grip. "Jack! Wait! Mrs. Mills is still in the basement. Wait!"

"Mommy?" Shanna began struggling as well.

A couple of brave firemen and a police officer made for the window, Sam shouting directions to them on where to find Sherry. As they pounded up to the back of an ambulance, she saw Tucker flailing his way out of a snowdrift, bemoaning the state of his precious electronics. Jack deposited Sam into the arms of a paramedic, Shanna into the arms of her father, and then scrambled over to a firing position along the fence line to give Maddie supporting fire. He'd just pulled his own mammoth gun out of some mysterious place in his jumpsuit when reality… hiccuped.

The eyes of everyone present watered, their stomachs flipped, and they dropped to their knees as the world rippled around them. Jack managed to gather himself enough to look up, just in time to throw himself out of the way of a black and white projectile that came hurtling out of the house. It smashed into the cab of the foremost fire truck in an explosion of glass, and then flopped down into the snow.

"ow"

* * *

_He was the Abyss. He was as profound and fluid as the darkness in which he dwelled. He was ancient, almost as old as the seas that had birthed him. He would be monstrous, if all that he WAS were to be defined by self-important Mankind, who had no use or understanding for anything that could not be made to serve. He was not mindless, but neither was he mindful of their insectile skittering across the face of the World._

_Though no longer alive, he remained Aware. This form Remembered what had been._

The small part of Danny that remained himself managed a question. "What?"

_Not the Leviathan of Men's legends, but close kin. RAHAB. And now, so much less._

"I don't understand." It showed him.

_He was Deceived._

_And he was Betrayed._

_Now this small token was all that remained. A tooth, stolen from its socket. A minor fang, forged into something new. A weapon turned against its origin and quenched in his lifeblood. A deadly wound. And a forgotten end, consigned to the salten deep._

"You're… the sword? A ghost in a blade?"

_Yes, and no. He was a weapon without will. He was a memory tied to the material. Because he had been so very MUCH, and because of the way he had passed beyond, this much remained. He WAS._

_Because he WAS and how he was made to be, the thief had only been able to wield him once. The thief had only been able to slay the blade's origin. But the thief was clever and still found ways to use his trophy. The thief would find a vessel and move it to kill. The Fang would take a life through the vessel's hand, and become invested with the strength of that life, consuming its essence through the channels forged into his new form. Then the thief would move on to a new vessel, and a new victim._

"That thing I've been fighting is your thief? And he can't use you directly?"

_Yes and yes._

Danny snorted in disbelief, "What kind of idiot gives away such a powerful weapon to a little girl?"

Because it was such a very small portion of what it Had Been, the Fang no longer had the capacity for emotions such as surprise. But it did pause, for just a moment, to pass on the information.

_This was the first time a vessel had ever refused._

"Can I use you against it?" Danny thought deeply, but remained cautious. "Would this harm me in any way?"

_He was a tool; he existed only to be used. He did not choose or care how he was used. But a vague knowledge left behind what he was _now_ indicated that _this_ use would be… fitting. He was incapable of harming his wielder directly. Unless that wielder was exceptionally clumsy._

Despite the situation, Danny managed a smile. "If I use this sword, will it be able to destroy that thing?"

_He did not know. But the certainty of his ability to Harm rang through his being._

Danny considered for a timeless moment longer. Then he decided. "Let's do this."

He closed his good hand on the handle of the Fang.

_He opened himself to be invested with the powers of the _Dasālux.

* * *

It moved closer to the fallen boy and Its tool hiding within the icy barrier, waiting to harvest the energies that would unlock the door to Its godhood. It smiled in anticipation of what would come, and the air strained and moaned in complaint. "Soon."

It would make a trophy of whatever remained of the dasālux. That grisly souvenir would be sent forth before It, cowing the tremulous masses of Humanity. Their crushed hope would be sweet wine to accompany Its feast of blood and flesh. The ice dome collapsed in a swirl of snow and faint green sparks. It began to reach for the boy, but staggered beneath the flash of light that blazed forth from Danny's body as he transformed.

It stepped back again in momentary confusion, not even noticing the girl making her escape. Had the dasālux not been slain? Or was this his form in death? Had It miscalculated, enabling the boy to reach some of that unrealized potential by ridding him of his mortality?

Danny floated up from the floor before the Beast, seemingly unaware of his surroundings. He stayed there, limp, eyes closed, with head lowered just a bit.

A brilliant beam of green ectoenergy passed just over his shoulder to strike the Beast. It tore Its gaze from the phantom to protest this indignity with a horrible growling that soured the air around It. Out in the street, Maddie blanched, but rallied herself to fire again.

Danny opened his eyes.

The beast was distracted, and so he acted, driving his ectoenergies and his ghost ice into the waiting Fang, driving the Fang into the enemy's smoky form.

It faltered. For the first time in eons the beast felt pain of Its own. The sensation propelled It beyond surprise. It fell back even further as Danny pushed the blade as deep as his strength allowed. His enemy's body roiled around the sword, churning chaotically as it tried to maintain solidity. The Fang's tip emerged, just barely, from the monster's back. And it seemed to stretch, just a bit, to pierce the edge of the ragged hole in the air beyond.

The fabric of reality spasmed. The beast finally reacted, backhanding the phantom viciously away from Itself with all Its remaining strength. The Fang was ripped from Its body and It lost control of Its form, dissolving into acidic mist.

And It was pulled violently back into the void as the rift between worlds wavered, unravelled, and collapsed.

The scattered bones of the Mills' home exploded with the fury of the inferno.

* * *

Sam pushed her paramedic to Danny where he sprawled in the snow, hobbling after the man as quickly as she could. Maddie jumped down from the GAV and attempted to help Jack hold their son still until his injuries could be tended.

Danny squinted up at them and then looked around groggily. "Everybody out?" He sat up against his parents' protests.

Sam answered, pointing towards what was left of the house. "Everyone except Mrs. Mills. She's…"

The house exploded into a tower of flame, knocking everyone to the ground again.

Danny disappeared.

* * *

A babe's more innocent than a lamb,  
Sing ninety-nine and ninety;  
And the devil's worse than all mankind,  
I am the weaver's bonny!"

* * *

A/N: I apologize for this very long hiatus. I originally intended this fic to be complete around New Years. For those who are still reading, thank you. The next and final chapter is mostly written, and will be proofed and posted in the next few days.

Some notes: In the Book of Isaiah and Jewish Folklore, **Rahab** is the name of a legendary sea monster, a dragon of the waters, the "demonic angel of the sea". The name has also been used in some classic video games, both for 'bosses' and weapons. I couldn't resist using it here.

That confusing passage above that alternated between italics and normal text was a 'conversation' between Danny and the limited intelligence that exists in the Fang of Rahab. It's meant to be at least a little bit confusing because the Rahab is beyond Mankind's understanding. Danny believes what the Fang tells/shows him during their talk because for the duration of their conversation he IS the sword. Danny remembers the memories in the sword as if they were his own. That's why all of those "was" statements were prefaced with "He". This also helped me to distinguish between the Fang when it was talking about itself, and the beast who is mostly gender-less and referred to as 'It', the beast, or the thief. If you're still confused, shoot me a message and I'll try my best to talk you through my twisted logic.

-S&S, wh2n


	6. An Ending

**The Devil's Nine  
**by what-happened-2-nice

Chapter 6: An Ending

* * *

The snow clumped black and heavy, snarled in patchy furrowed snarls and marked with the tread of many booted feet. Near the remains of the front garden fence, Glenn Mills stood from a pile of scorched and waterlogged salvage, arms soot covered to the elbows. He conceded, if only to himself that he had never before been so tested. It was like rummaging through hell.

"We lost everything. Gone," his voice barely whispered across the devastation.

"Mr. Mills…"

"It's nothin', it's nothin'. Just time to see what the next chapter in our lives is gonna be. Outta my hands now. The reverend's takin' up a collection. Sister-n-law's seein' to the kids. We got what's important."

"Mr. Mills, still, I'm sorry. I can't even imagine…" Glenn didn't turn from the wreckage of his house, and the voice trailed off into a cough.

"Like I said, we got what's important. Nothin' else matters. Kids are safe, I still got my jobs and my car to get there. Got some insurance for the bills an' what not. Family's steppin' up where our neighbors aren't. We'll get there."

Danny limped up to Glenn's side, "Are you staying with Jerri and your kids?"

Glenn snorted, "When I'm not at work or in the hospital. Speakin' of which," He now turned to give Danny a dubious once-over. "I can't imagine why we're talkin' about this _here_ instead of _there_. Sit down or somethin'. I'm not fit to catch you if you tip over."

"I'm fine, really. I heal quick." Glenn snorted again. Sam chuckled a little and positioned herself at Danny's shoulder, a prop to lean against should he need it.

"He always says that, but it's only mostly true." Danny glared at her, but found that it didn't carry the same weight when delivered from a blackened eye. He changed the subject.

"I haven't heard the latest, what's being done about Mrs. Mills?"

Glenn sighed and started to rub his eyes before he remembered the mess of soot. He sighed again, blinking gritty eyes. Sam handed him a handkerchief. "The docs say she's outta danger. Mostly. From now on it's mostly time an' healin'. Gotta keep a positive attitude. So long as she doesn't get an infection or anythin' else, she'll pull through okay. Then we can start thinkin' 'bout maybe some reconstruction. Doesn't matter to me, but she might…" He turned sharply.

"Don't." His flat rebuke stopped Danny before he'd done more than draw breath.

His voice tore sharply through the chilled air. He was clearly at the end of his resources. "No more apologies. You were here when no one else cared. You went outta your way to see after our Shanna. You came and faced that monster, 'thout knowin' exactly what it was or if you _could_ beat it. An' you still managed to save the day. My Sherry…"

Here he choked a little, but managed to continue, "… she told you we'd walk to the ends of the earth to keep Shanna an' Greg safe. That's nothin' less than the truth. It's worth any price we've paid, worth anything we still gotta face up to. You saved _lives_, which are the only things as can't be replaced. The rest is just scars an' the next day's work. We can deal with that. So thank you. For everythin'."

Danny's face tightened, but he managed a nod, shaking Glenn's hand gravely. Left-handed, since his right was still in a sling. "In that case, you're welcome. Umm, is it okay if I come and visit? I know the kids are probably gonna be torn up about all this. And I like them for themselves, anyway, so…"

Glenn nodded. "Yeah, yeah, you're welcome any time. If you were their hero before, well, that's gonna be a million times worse now. Could work for us, though. We've all been tellin' them things'll work out all right. Lettin' em know we love 'em. That they're still good kids an' nothin' that's happened is their fault. An' that Shanna's _not _damned or crazy or anythin'. But they might actually believe it comin' from you." He managed a grin at Danny's blush. "Just one last thing."

"What?"

"I'll let 'em know you're stoppin' by, but hold off for a couple o' days. Alright?"

Danny looked confused. "Okay, but why?"

"Quick healin' or not, you look awful. Wait 'til you can see outta both eyes an' don't need the sling." And with this Glenn finally managed a genuine, if small, smile. He walked away with a wave.

Danny pouted, there was no other description for it. "I don't look _that_ bad! I'm already better than I was last time Shanna saw me, right after the fight."

Sam just laughed at him and pulled him over to sit on the rear bumper of Mayor Tucker's towncar. "I don't know how to tell you, Danny, but he's right. You look like you got into a fight with a nameless inter-dimensional entity of Evil and got a world class butt-whooping."

"Thank you for your kind words of encouragement, Sam. I don't know what I'd do without your daily dose of optimism and sentimentality."

Tucker rounded the back of the car to join them. "Tsk, leave the sarcasm to Sam, man. She does it better." He paused, "You still look like crap. How are you feeling?"

Danny only groaned as Sam chuckled in fiendish enjoyment.

Tucker rolled his eyes at the lovebirds, drawing out his PDA. "Okay, whatever. So, what was that thing?"

"Evil," Sam replied, simply.

"Obviously, but what should we call it? A devil or something?" He tapped rapidly on the PDA, opening a new section of files to augment the ghostly ones.

Danny shrugged his good shoulder. "Why does it matter what we call it?"

"We need a name so when we write this all down, and find all the info on whatever it was and how you're supposed to kill it…"

"Because, frankly, this way sucked." Sam interrupted, stretching her sprains and rubbing at a mild burn.

"…people will know what we're talking about."

Danny looked thoughtful, and nodded. "I guess. Something like this should never be allowed to happen again."

They looked at each other for a minute, but couldn't think of anything sufficient to describe the _Thing_ that had come so close to gaining bloodthirsty freedom in their world. Tucker brightened abruptly. "We could call it Man-Bear-Pig."

They stared at him in mild horror.

"You know, like that cartoon on the Comic Network. They were making fun of the ex-VP and he was all 'conspiracy theory' about Man-Bear-Pig, and that's kind of what this thing was. It was a pig in the tree, then all… man-y… then it went inside and you said it got really big, so there's your bear."

Sam narrowed her eyes at Tucker. Danny was busy looking over his shoulder at a few groups of people who'd gathered to look at the wreckage of the house, shifting uncomfortably and frowning a bit. "Are these the kinds of things you think about when you're playing in the snow? You know, instead of helping your friends fight a not-going-to-call-it-THAT-nameless-evil and/or escape a burning building?"

This brought Danny's attention back. Tucker protested in a shrill, indignant voice, "I wasn't 'playing in the snow'! I heard you yell and was on my way to help when his parents pulled up." He pointed accusingly at Danny. "Jack popped out of the GAV and ran right over me. Knocked me into that snow bank and rescued you himself."

Danny laughed outright. "Sounds like Dad. At least he didn't run over you while he was _in_ the GAV."

Tucker stuck his tongue out and turned back, "And _you!_ You left me holding your purse. Not cool! Almost enough to maybe consider _thinking_ about leaving you in a burning building kind of not cool!"

Sam rolled her eyes dismissively, "It's not a purse, it's my kit. I've already been over this."

Danny brought his attention back from the rubberneckers again. He frowned, "And you said we'd get an explanation after we were done. About your 'kit' and the rest of your good-luck stuff. I'm still waiting."

Sam bit her lip, "I know. Not here. Tonight, if you're free, you can come over to my room and I'll explain everything." She cut Tucker off before he could comment. "Both of you."

Tucker nodded, making a note. He commented to Danny. "Sounds fair. What are you so grumpy about, anyway? You won and you got a new power. You can teleport! I know you've been wanting that one for a while now. Just think of the possibilities!"

Danny shifted again, twisting away from the sound of one of the onlookers murmuring softly to himself. "I didn't learn to teleport."

It was his turn to get the strange look. "Dude, you disappeared. We saw you do it. Don't tell me you turned invisible to save Mrs. Mills."

"No, I teleported, but…"

"So…"

"But, I didn't _learn how_ to teleport. The house exploded and I could feel Mrs. Mills' fear and pain like she was sticking a knife into me, and I just… went. I was there and she was there, so I grabbed her and got her back out into the snow to put out the fire on her. I don't know how I did it, and I haven't been able to do it since. So it doesn't count." He shifted his shoulders uncomfortably.

Sam nudged him gently. "You'll get it. That was a bad fight. Your injuries were pretty bad; you used up a lot of energy. And your new powers always seem to use more energy than the last set. You probably just drained yourself dry. It would also explain why you're healing so slowly. What do you keep looking at over there?"

He seemed both curious and confused. "I dunno. A couple of those people over there are making me, well… itchy."

Tucker turned to look too. "It's kind of ghoulish that they just came to look and gossip like that, but there aren't any paparazzi. And none of them have come over to bother us."

Sam growled, "For once."

Danny shook his head. "No. It's just that fighting that thing and the sword talking with me left me all hypersensitive to stuff. Even the TV makes me…"

Sam stood abruptly, clutching at her bag. "It _talked_ to you? The sword actually spoke?"

He winced, while Tucker looked on, open mouthed. "No, sort of, not really, but… it's apparently called the Fang of Rahab. It was made from the tooth of a sea serpent and it kind of… remembers that. When I touched it, it showed me. But it doesn't have a brain or a soul or anything. It didn't do more than answer my questions. And it came in pretty handy for getting rid of Big Bad. It disappeared after, so it doesn't really matter."

Sam bit her lip, consciously forcing her fingers to relax and release the bundled shapes within her oversized satchel. "I'm dating a half-ghost. I don't know why I'm surprised you had a little chat with a sword made from a piece of not-so mythological Red Sea dragon."

Danny blinked at her, but continued. "How did we get off on this tangent? My point was that I'm all hypersensitive to energy fields since then. And a couple of the people over there are grating on my nerves like nails across a sunburn."

They all turned to observe the onlookers. Tucker readied his phone to call for police assistance. "You think they're gonna cause trouble?"

Danny seemed thoughtful. "No. I think that maybe if I wasn't so touchy right now it might actually feel kind of nice. Calm. But right now I'm all sunburn and it's really uncomfortable."

Sam stood stiffly, considering. She nodded as she made up her mind. "Which ones?"

Danny pointed. "The priest and the lady in the loud shirt."

They all looked over. Both the priest and the Caribbean-looking woman stood apart from the others (and each other), and both seemed to be doing more than just looking at the debris. "Fine. Stay here."

She started off, but Danny grabbed her arm. "Boyfriend, not pet dog. What are you doing?"

Sam smiled a little bit, kissing him on the cheek. "You're right, I'm sorry." She steered both Danny and Tucker into the car. "I have a better idea anyway. You let Tucker's driver take you home and get a nap. Both of you can come over tonight and we'll have our talk."

"Sounds good, but seriously, what are you doing?"

Sam stepped away to allow him to pull the door closed and reflected on her determination to do anything in her power to keep Danny safe. She answered over her shoulder as she walked towards the two people Danny felt were sending out good, 'calm' energies.

"I'm recruiting."

* * *

You have answered my questions nine.  
(Sing ninety-nine and ninety)  
You are God's child and none of mine.  
And you are the weaver's bonny.

* * *

A/N: Argh. Yeah, so I didn't end up killing anyone. I get too attached to my characters. I'm also regretting the decision to bring Glenn back for a final few words. I forgot how hard it is to write a twangy accent.

Couldn't resist the "man-bear-pig" reference for South Park when I'd realized what I managed to write. Good old Tucker for being the voice of my inner goof.

Yes, Sam picked up the Fang when Danny dropped it to teleport, and she has it stashed somewhere safe. Wouldn't you?

I'm not planning a sequel or any other writing along this storyline, but I can see this 'ruthless' Sam bringing a couple of auxiliary members into Team Phantom, even if they're from other, possibly conflicting religions of Catholicism and Voudun (voodoo). If Danny can feel them, then they're actually _doing_ something. And that something could definitely be useful to the Team. Besides, it made a nice almost-cliffhanger place to end my story.

Thanks for reading.

-S&S, wh2n


End file.
